To Love a Wolf
by Knight's Queen
Summary: This is a short story for Tristan and the two women he loves. Love is powerful but duty and pride maybe be stronger.
1. His Lamb

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the 2004 movie King Arthur, they belong to Touchstone Pictures**

**This is going to be a short story but it has been mulling around in my head for about two years now…so hope you like it**

**This story takes place at the time of the moive**

**Tristan/Gawain and OC**

**Chapter 1: His Lamb**

"I stay my papa" a sweet soft small voice could be heard

"Hanna, you must come with momma." Her mother softly replied coaxing her young two year old daughter

"I stay my papa." Her small arms and legs clinched tightly around his father's right leg,

"There now lamb, you cannot stay with your papa." Stooped down near the child her mother held out her hands

Slowly their daughter's small hand reached out from under the tunic with only a finger pointed out straight toward her mother.

"No momma, I …stay….. my …PAPA!" protested the two year old in the sweetest softest voice from the safety and concealment of her father's long tunic

Looking up at her husband with frustrated eyes Tamara reached through the tunic taking hold of her daughter's midsection, prying her from her father's leg. Lifting the dark haired girl into her arms Tamara placed her on her left hip as she wiped the tussled mess of locks from her face. She truly had the look of her father, dark amber eyes that could look deep into the very soul of a person, dark thick locks that no matter how many times her mother brushed them always seemed windblown, high predominate cheek bones that gave her the air of nobility and a voice as low and soft as the purr of a kitten.

Placing a soft kiss upon her daughter's rosy lips she gently wiped the tears from her eyes. Placing her forehead against the child's she spoke softly.

"Momma would like nothing better than to stay with papa too. But we cannot my lamb, your papa has his duties and we have our chores." She whispered as she headed out the stables

With tears in her eyes the child cried not loud and rough but rather with deep sadness.

"I stay my papa…..I stay my papa" she repeated as one arm reached back for her father while a fist of tiny fingers covered her crying eyes

Her father usually stoic and unemotional bit his lower lip, his heart breaking as he stood in place watching his daughter leave his sight distraught. The other knight's watched the scout in amusement knowing that this tiny figure was the only person who could melt his heart into a puddle.

Turning the corner from the stable the two headed toward the market place. Tamara tried unsuccessfully to console her daughter. The child weeping, her head lay limp upon her mother's shoulder now tear soaked, while her arms wrapped tightly around her mother's neck, repeatedly saying "I stay my papa" in a low heart wrenching voice.

"I know love, I know" she gently patted her daughter's back "I feel the very way as you. Your papa is not one I wish to be parted from either but…"

Suddenly the child was ripped from her arms over her shoulder. Tamara turned around quickly completely prepared to fight the person who dared take her child from her, as mother cat protecting her cub would do. To her surprise stood her husband their tiny daughter in his arms. Tristan stood holding Hanna in his left arm with his right hand on her back. Hanna had her face hidden under his braided locks as though she was shielded from the world while one hand slipped in the opening of his shirt and the other arm around his neck.

Towering over his petite wife (measuring a mere 5"1' inches tall to his near 6 foot frame) as she stood with her hands on her hips glaring at him in a disapproving manner Tristan looked into her grey/blue eyes sternly.

"I will take the girl, you go on with your chores woman" he said with great authority "I will find you when I am ready to return her"

"You spoil her far too much husband" his wife said with a cocked eye brow looking up at her husband

"Nonsense, she is a mere child" patting his daughter's back

"Aye, who has her father wrapped in the palm of her tiny hand" she added

"I stay my papa" in a happy tone was suddenly heard from the child as she looked from under his locks with a smile as she pat his chest from under his shirt

"Yes I see that little girl you got your very wish did you not" her mother said softly looking at her husband who now wore a proud grin upon his lips

Tristan slipped his hand beneath his wife's dark brown hair lacing it around to the back of her neck, the scout pulled her close as he bent down placing a warm tender kiss on his wife's lips.

"Bid your momma goodbye my lamb" he commanded of his child

"Go momma" she said as she pointed her finger to her mother as she buried her head in her father's neck

Attempting to hide a laugh Tristan cleared his throat.

"Hanna, do not speak to your mother in such a manner" he chastened her tenderly "say you are sorry" he gently poked her side arm

"I torry momma" she said never lifting her head from her father's protective hold

Rolling her eyes Tamara turned, headed toward their cottage to begin her chores. It would be a bit of relief to have time alone to accomplish all she had to do this day. Not that Hanna was any trouble, for she was a good child, quiet like her father, not like Bors' and Vanora's brood for sure. If truth is told Hanna was shy around them, often seeking the protection of her father or mother's arms when they were about. Hanna, like her father avoided loud and rambunctious people, preferring to live on the outside circle of people.

"Bye bye momma" she yelled back over her father's shoulder as he headed toward the stable

Turning back to face them she smiled. Tamara stood with crossed arms as she watched her husband and child walk off. She could not help but smile within warmly as she gazed upon them. Her daughter chatting away in her husband's ear as she stroked his locks. How that little girl adored her father, and he her in return, for certain the scout was not an easy man to love, this Tamara knew all too well. But Hanna was a different story, she alone melted the coldness and distance of his heart. Just as the two turned the corner toward the stable he stopped looking toward his wife catching her in a gaze. He had his moments and this was one of them as she detected a softness come over his lips as the edges barely tilted upward. She could sware she saw a glimmer in his amber eyes, even through his tussled locks. She knew what that look meant as well.

'Oh that look, he knows just how to make me weak in the knees' she thought as he left her sight 'He does it on purpose, he does.' she said exhaling

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Entering the stable with his daughter in his arms Tristan heard the muffled chuckles and was given skirmish looks from his fellow knight's as he made his way to his spot on the benches. Sitting down Hanna slipped into his lap with her legs stretched as far as they could across his legs, her back resting against his belly. She looked up at her father who was gazing into his daughter's eyes smiling at her. He loved this little girl more than he ever thought he could love another person. She was his life, his future, his reason to exist.

Taking out his dagger he began to sharpen it as she placed her small hands on his forearms. Content and happy the daughter of the scout sat with her father for sometime quietly in his lap watching him. Tristan requested that Johls saddle his horse and bring him. The page did as he was instructed. With the horse before them Tristan looked at Hanna who had jumped from his lap excited to see the steed. Her bright smile lit her face as she placed her hands together and bent her knees as nearly knelt on the benches then jumped high clapping. She loved riding with her father, he brought her on more and more rides now that she was getting older.

"Wide papa wide papa" she exclaimed

"Yes daughter we go for a ride" he chuckled softly shaking his head

Hanna toddled over to where Gawain sat, climbing in his lap she took his face in her hands and turned him to face hers.

"Dawain….Dawain… I wide a my papa" she shouted

"Aye Hanna you ride with your papa" he said to her with a smile "Come I will hand you to him" he said as he lifted the child making his way to the scout who had mounted his horse

Her arms stretched out for her father Gawain placed her in the scouts lap. With open palm pressed to her lips she blew a kiss to Gawain as her father turned the reins of the horse and headed out of the stable. The scout cast one of his infamous dark glares toward Gawain as his hold upon his daughter tightened. He was not pleased that Hanna favored Gawain the way she did, not at all. Gawain adored the wee girl and made no bones about it, doted on her all the time. This did not sit well with the scout at all, not at all, but his daughter loved him he could tell. He still did not trust the golden haired knight around his wife, knowing how he felt about her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The two rode for some time in the open field and in the woods. The wonder of her age and curiousty amazed him. She never seemed void of questions. He chuckled as his daughter pointed at everything she saw naming it off, her voice so soft so sweet. Yes, he was a proud father, something three years ago he would have laughed out loud at the very thought, but now, now he could not imagine his life without her, or her mother in it. He kissed the top of her tiny head as she continued to chat away patting his forearms as they went.

"We had better pick some flowers for your momma, lamb, they will make her happy." He said as he brought his horse to a halt

Dismounting he reached his arms out as Hanna flew into their safety. Hugging his neck she placed a kiss upon his cheek. Placing his daughter on the ground he watched as she ran threw the field as though she had not a care in the world, and she did not. He thought hard to a time when he was that way, running carefree in fields, near streams, playing with no thought of his future life. He joyfully watched as his daughter run about, her hair flying behind her, her face brighter than the noonday sun, her arms full of wild flowers from the field. When she had her full she raced back to her father heading straight into his legs. he placed his hand on her head and gently rubbed her hair.

"Well then, have you enough child?" he chuckled

"More" she said looking up at him

"No that is enough girl, come let us make our way back to your mother, I am sure she will have supper ready for the two of us." he said as he lifted her unto the saddle before mounting his self

"Fowers" she said "for my momma"

"Yes lamb flowers for your momma. They will get us both out of trouble" he laughed as he placed a kiss on his daughters head "Papa loves you my sweet lamb"

"Ove my papa" she replied patting his arm

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Their cottage was located just on the outskirts of the fort. Arthur had requistioned it to them when he married. It was small but comfortable. Tamara had made it a nice home for them. He did not like to admit it at first but he liked coming threw the doors at night to a warmly lit home that smelled of fresh things baking or cooking. It was something he had to adjust to, sharing his life with another person. He found he spent less time at the tavern and more time sitting infront of the fire near his wife, even if most of the time they spoke very little, well he did not that is. Tamara chatted away, often times to herself. He would often catch her in full conversations with herself before Hanna came into their lives. He amuzed himself standing outside the window listening to her sing or talk to herself. At first he thought her half out of her mind, then he realised she was merely lonely. Her voice was musical, soft like Hanna's and it soothed him to hear her speak. Especially in the middle of the night when he would stur from a nightmare, her soft hand would find him, her voice calming him back to sleep.

Opening the door to their small cottage Tristan put Hanna on the ground allowing the child to run to her mother. Closing the door behind him he kicked his boots off in their usual place, placed his weapons in the cupboard near the door. His wife insisted on tidiness in their home and made sure the scout followed. Smiling as he cast his eyes on his wife who held their daughter in her lap. They were beautiful to him and he enjoyed watching the two together.

"Momma fowers for you" she said looking up at her mother with an arm full of flowers

"They are beautiful daughter, thank you" she said as she placed a kiss on her cheek then looked up at her husband with a warm smile

Her husband made his way to the table and took his usual place. Grabbing an apple from the bowl he began to cut pieces sharing them with Hanna.

"She spoils you wife" he muttered lowly with a impish grin on his lips never looking up from his apple

"So does her father" Tamara replied as she placed her hand on his arm

**To be continued...**


	2. In Your Arms

**Disclaimer: The usual- I own only my own, Touchstone Pictures owns those whom we love dearly, especially Tristan-**

**M for mature sexual content- **

**Chapter 2: In Your Arms**

After a good meal, prepared by his wife, the scout and his family settled in for the night. He could have easily ventured to the tavern for some ale and a game of knives, listening to the usual banter from his drunken comrades or other occupants of the tavern, even the occasional offer from a whore seeking coin. That was his life before he became a father. His daughter settled him. These days he found he preferred this, a quiet home life.

He _was_ getting old he chuckled to himself, old indeed. Looking over he found his wife busy mending the rips and tears in his tunic. This life felt good to him. How times had changed over these past three years. Watching his wife he could not help but smile, she was indeed even more beautiful to him than she ever was. Certainly different from when he had first seen her three years past. Then she was thin, nothing but skin and bones, frail with a boyish figure and wild hair. It was not until after she gave birth to Hanna did she gain a fuller more womanly figure, filling out in all the right places. He smiled casting his eyes to her bodice which revealed a lovely cleavage now.

'Womanly indeed' he thought to himself 'and all mine'

The fire was warm on this cool spring evening with its soft crackling sounds. His legs stretched out full length, ankles crossed, it had been a long day of scouting. He was tired, his body ached from too many battles, he was getting too old for all this he thought as he looked down into the face of his daughter who lay in his arms. Tristan's facial features softened just a bit as he watched her eyes flutter trying so desperately to stay awake.

He had been telling her tales of his homeland, Sarmatia. Telling her tales of his youth, his family, her family. In the comfort of her father's lap the sleepy two year old yawned, her head bobbing back as she struggled to stay awake. Her small head nestled into the crook of his arm, her tiny legs dangled off his. She loved her father's stories and fought to stay her sleep. Her tiny hand wrapped around his first two fingers. Tamara looked up to find her husband staring at her with that look again. His eyebrow cocked, his hair fallen across his beautiful strong face, revealing a glimmer in his amber eyes, his lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth.

"Come lamb, I think it is time for you to go to bed, you are sleepy." Her father said staring at her mother in a wanton glare

"I not papa, I not teepy" she protested weakly as she yawned rubbing her eyes

"Yes you are daughter, and _so_ is your momma" he said casting a suggestive look at her once again

Tamara simply smiled as she continued to mend his tunic, never raising her eyes from her duties.

"I think papa should take you to bed lamb." She quietly said "He will sing you to sleep."

"Yes, and your momma had better make her way to papa's bed shortly as well." He replied as he stood up carrying their daughter to her room. "papa will make your momma sing….loudly" he said never looking back in her direction although he heard her chuckle out loud

"I….. NOT…. teepy papa" she protested with a yawn

"Yes you are little lamb" he said

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Entering their bedroom Tristan cast his eyes to his bed where his wife lay. Her back was to him as she lay under the covers. He undressed and slid in next to her. Placing his arm over her he pulled her close to his body. She was warm and soft to his touch. His calloused finger tips caressed her bare skin. He smelled her hair; its aroma was intoxicating to him.

"You should not carry Hanna anymore woman." he whispered sternly "She is too heavy"

"She is fine and so am I" his wife retorted

"Woman, that was not a request, it was an order" he said with more force

Placing his hand on her protruding belly. Rubbing her smooth skin round and round in a circular motion. Coaxing his unborn child to move. He would never admit that he relished the feel of his child moving around within his wife's womb. Often times he would lie watching as the child distroted her stomach in the oddest manner, it was his child and he loved it even now still deep within her, he loved it.

"Your belly swells far too much now with this child" he continued "You struggle more and more each day"

Letting out a heavy sigh of dissatisfaction she placed her hand on his. The child within her began kicking hard as if in compliance with its father, causing its mother to grunt in discomfort. Tristan laughed under his breath as he kissed her head.

"Vanora says it's another girl" she whispered with a chuckle

"Good" was his reply as he pressed gently but firmly against his child's kicks and rolls within his wife's womb

"Good…." She inquired "You do not desire a son"

"NO" he answered harshly

"Why ever not" she inquired rather surprised

"I will not have any son of mine be cursed to this life woman" he said sadness in his voice

"So you would have a house full of females instead" she chuckled "brave man"

"I have faced worse woman, I am a warrior remember" he chuckled

"Heaven help the men who come to seek out your daughters" she laughed

"Neither Christian heaven nor pagan gods will help the insulant bastard who dare comes to seek any one of my daughters hand, woman" he grumbled

"Besides" he said as he bent down kissing her neck "I would be a lucky man to be surrounded by such beautiful women"

"Oh … whatever is this….such sweet and tender words dripping from _my _husband's tongue?" she laughed "I almost do not recognize you… you are growing soft in your old age husband"

"Oh I am an old man now am I?" he whispered gruffly in her ear "You did not think me so old this morning when I made you moan with pleasure" he said as his hand slipped down cupping her womanhood

Turning his wife around to face him he cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Her body moving tenderly beneath him as her hands caressed his chest. His right hand trailed down, cupping her breast. The size of her breasts was getting larger as the months into her pregnancy extended. His hands gently kneaded them, tenderly holding the nipple between his forefinger and thumb, she slightly jerked from the sensation as a low pleasurable moan escaped from her throat. His kisses became heavier, more passionate, and more amorous as his need for release heightened. He pulled at her body with desire, with need, with longing. His breath shortened, panted heavily when her hand took hold of his engorged manhood, stroking him slowly, tentatively.

Positioning himself over her, hovering just on top he continued kissing, his feaverous assault on her mouth. His arms stretched out on either side of her head, his legs straddled careful on either side of her hips. She felt him firm against her swollen belly.

"I want you" he whispered in a deep low husky voice "I want you now woman" he grunted with pure animal desire

Her body wriggled beneath him in wanton lust, begging silently for him to take her. Her arms stretched over her head grabbing at the metal headboard pulling it hard as her body wrenched for him.

"You want me….I know you do…tell me….tell me I am yours and yours alone…that you love no other" He moaned in his darkest voice, still hovered over her, taunting her with his flesh as he covered her mouth once again

Why did he take such pleasure in torturing her the way he did, she wondered? At times he was like a child, insecure and needy then there were other times he was the most passionate of lovers attentive to her every need. He knew she loved him and him alone. She had chosen _him _after all. Yet sometimes that was not enough for him. His jealousy over Gawain crept in causing him to behave in just a manner that disturbed her so. At times it casued him to distance himself from her, retreat into his own world, only allowing Hanna in.

He loved this game of power over her; he always had, even from the very beginning. She had to prove her love for him, her desire to be his. He wanted to claim her over and over, conquer her making her his. She often felt that she was a prize to him. True he loved her and showed it many ways. Yet still there were times when he was so far removed from she felt alone. So she played his game, she learned to play it well, to satisfy him, satisfy his hunger. She let him feel powerful over her, that he conquered her over and over, claiming her, making her his. She learned to love the child within him, the little boy who needed to be reassured. This boy in him did not always surface, rarely as a matter of fact, but when he did she loved him, because he needed her to, he needed her. This she did because her heart truly belonged to him only. Her love was pure and true.

Turning her over he gently pulled her to her knees. Crouched over her, he moaned in her ear:

"Woman, tell me…" he commanded "Please woman"

"I need you…you are the only man who can please me" she meant the words she said and he knew it "It is only you my lord, there is no other" moaning as she felt him slid into her filling her insides

Kneeling with his hands on her hips he guided himself deeper within her, careful not to harm his child. He was never rough with her, never hurt her, and never hit her. He never hit any woman and never would.

Deep within her he remained still. It was her that took control now, moving, rocking back and forth upon his manhood, driving him to near brink explosion. He relished when she took control, knowing just what he needed. Rocking on all fours she maneuvered pleasuring him, pleasuring herself. His hands tightly gripped on his wife's hips Tristan guided her moves, gently meeting her thrust for thrust. Their bodies dripping with sweat from their lustful coupling, powerful moans escaping from them both as they were nearing their release. Her head was tilted back, the fingers of his right hand tangled in her long dark locks tugging. Tristan called out her name over and over in a deep heavy pant as he exploded deep within her, groaning in ecstasy as he felt her pulsate around him eagerly with each of his thrusts.

Collapsing next to her in exhaustion Tristan's arm found his wife pulling himself close to her, holding her tightly close to his body. His head rested on her breasts, rising and falling with each breath she took. His hand caressed her swollen belly lovingly, feeling his child rolling and kicking within her. Gingerly he kissed her belly speaking softly to the child within her, humming an old familiar tune from his homeland. She stroked his hair as his singing soothed her, soothed their child. His voice was melodic when he hummed; she loved hearing him especially when he did so to Hanna.

"Tristan you know you are the only man in my heart, when will let this go?" she asked quietly

"He still looks at you with wanting eyes. I do not like the way he dotes on Hanna either." he snarled

"Tristan" she whispered as she pressed her face to his "Look at Hanna, she is your child... how can you doubt that?"

"I know she is my daughter, I can see that woman. Anyone can. I still do not like him near you! You are MINE!" he growled

Taking his face in her hands she kissed his lips softly, tenderly, lovingly.

"I am yours and yours alone, now and forever husband. You must stop this jealousy you have for Gawain. There is nothing in my heart for him but friendship Tristan, nothing. And your daughter will always love him...just the same as she loves the other knights. To her they are her uncles."

The scout rolled over, punching at his pillow untill he got it just right. Laying his head upon he folded his arms across his chest releasing a heavy sighe.

"Tristan" she whispered disheartened as she scooted next to him

Pressing her belly against his back she snaked her arm aross his stomach, slipped her leg between his and placed her face against his neck.

"Husband...I love you... you and you alone." she said softly

Taking her hand in his he squeezed gently as he rolled over on his back, taking her in his arm as she craddled herself in the crook of his shoulder. Looking up at him she smiled with her beautiful greyish eyes.

"What ever am I to do with you husband?" she asked

"Stay away from Gawain woman" he snarled

Leaning down he covered her mouth with a strong firm kiss. She was his.

**To be continued….**


	3. I Saw Her First Tristan's Version

**Disclaimer_ You know the drill I don't any characters save my own creations... Touchstone Pictures holds all others...**

**This chapter flashes back three years**

**Chapter 3: I Saw Her First- Tristan's version**

Midmorning found Joseph, the local Miller, and his daughter Tamara in the tavern. Tamara was now fifteen years of age, old enough to earn extra money by working in the tavern as a serving girl for Vanora. She was a tiny thing but strong enough to do the job.

"You can help me this very day as I am short handed, some of the knights make their way for first meal of the day, they should be along shortly."

"The knights" she asked timidly

"Aye girl, the knights, look here girl you will not be able be this shy and timid around them, they will surely eat you alive. You will have to toughen up" said the fiery red head as she grabbed Tamara by the hand leading her toward the kitchen area "And do not take anything guff from them either, or they will have me to deal with."

"The knights" she repeated with an dreamy air of awe in her voice, showing her age indeed

"Oh I recognize that look as well." Vanora laughed "Bewares dearie, they have a magical pull to them those knights do, a pull for sure. I know I am woman to one." She laughed holding Tamara by the shoulders "Do not let them fool you. They are ravenous wolves they are. That is how I wound up with so many babies from my Bors. As a matter of fact I was not but your age when I did. Come now, we have much to prepare." She laughed hardly

The two women worked diligently to prepare the days food. Soon patrons to the tavern would be coming and there was much still to be down.

Neither of the women noticed the scout sitting in his usual spot, the secluded corner. This particular spot gave him the best advantage point, perfect view of every angle of the tavern. Not much would slip by his hawk like eyes. Tristan propped his legs up on the table, crossed at the ankles, tilted his chair on its back legs, and quietly set to peeling an apple. He had been there for near an hour waiting in the shadows.

First customers to venture in were some Roman centurions, freshly off their night shift, two merchants who had been setting up their goods for sale. Vanora took the orders for the tables, returning to kitchen area she looked at Tamara.

"Here you go dearie, just get stuck into it, you'll be fine….take this try over to those Romans" Handing the frightened girl a tray full of ale "Then come back for their food"

Tamara was relieved when she made it to the table without any mishaps. She took a deep breath as she passed the mugs of ale to the Romans. A large smile beamed from ear to ear as she returned triumphantly to Vanora swinging the tray at her side. Her walk was more like a dance as she crossed the floor. She did not notice the scout in the corner as she sashayed passed him catching his eye.

"Well done," Vanora smiled "See that was not so bad was it?" she said as another tray full of food was placed on her arms "See you get that one there as well." Laughed the red head

Tamara stood opened mouth and wide eyed as she struggled to balance the heavier tray.

"You can do this Tamara, go now girl." Vanora encouraged the young girl

With the tray supported with both her hands Tamara made her way across the room again. Bits of her hair had come loose from her tie wisping across her face. She blew from her bottom lip in an attempt to push them out of her eyes, rather unsuccessfully. Reaching the table she passed the bowls of stew, bread, and cheese among the centurions. Victory was hers once again she jubilantly thought.

This time she strolled across the floor back to Vanora, her shoulders pressed back her chest stuck out head held high as her hips swayed more pronounced. From his perch the scout watched her more intently as she passed. His heart quickened as she made her way. Like a predator on the hunt his instincts honed in, all his scenes becoming heightened on this new little creature before him. There was nothing to her; he could snap her like a twig with his bare hand if he wanted to he thought to himself. She was small, young with long dark hair which was tied loosly with a red ribbon. Her facial features were soft, her eyes kind, yes she was young, too young, but something about her struck him. Closing his eyes for a mere fraction of a moment he allowed her scent to fill his lungs, tilting his head back as he inhaled her aroma. In a flash he opened his eyes to glare upon her again. His lips pressed firm as his fist clinched around his dagger hilt. She was still unaware of his presence as she strolled by him.

'Fresh meat' he grumbled to himself 'they will be all over her like bees on a honey hive in no time... they always did when the new ones came in' rubbing his nose with the back of his right hand

Reaching Vanora she placed her tray on the counter top, beaming at her sccuess.

"Well done" she said impressed "Now take this one to Tristan" she commanded as she placed another tray in her hand

Looking down she saw a single mug of ale, a bowl, some cheese and bread. With tray in hand Tamara turned around casting her eyes all around the tavern looking for a lone person, this Tristan. On her second scan across the room her eyebrows became knitted and a quizzical expression fell upon her face. Everyone had been served, she was baffeled, where was this person she was to deliver this tray to? With her lips puckered in a curious manner she turned to face Vanora. Before she could speak the tavern owner chuckled and pointed her finger to the semi partitioned wall, bending it slightly.

"You will find him sitting in the corner" she smiled "He is a knight" her eyebrow cocked slightly

Tamara's eyes opened wide as her jaw slowly dropped.

"A…a… knight" she whispered with a smile in pure astonishment

"Aye, a knight dearie….. and not just any knight" she whispered "Arthur's scout to be exact" she stated in a near whisper knowing Tristan's hawk like ears were nearby listening to everything "and don't worry dearie… his bite is most worse off than his bark" she said with a chuckle as Tamara made her way toward the wall

Spinning her head around at the statement just made a sudden look of fear came across the young girl's face, her heart raced and a sick feeling rapidly filled her body. Vanora merely motioned with both her hands for the timid girl to make her way.

Stopping when she passed the partition she turned her head to the right, slowly bending her head forward, squinting her eyes slightly just making out the shadow of a figure.

"Are you just going to stand there all day girl, or bring me my meal" a deep dark voice growled in a thick foreign accent "I have not all day"

Tamara took two steps back, her body began to shake, her breath quickened. Uncrossing his legs the scout placed them on the floor as he brought his chair to an upright position. The sound of the chair legs hitting the ground made a thunderous sound to her.

"Well girl" he whispered in a growl

Tristan had a stoic look on his face as his eyes pierced to her very soul. He enjoyed intimidating people, he truly did, especially women…or in her case girls. Females were so easily disturbed and shakened. His elbows braced on the table as he finished peeling his apple, he stabbed his dagger into the table. His nose crinkled as he moved his lower lip up and down across his teeth. Watching her...ever watching her.

Her eyes widened as his face came slowly into the light. She was frightened yet in a seductive alluring way. Her entire body swarmed with heat, a kind she had never experienced before. This feeling was so unfamiliar to her, her head felt light and she could feel her body waver, her knees weakened. She was immediately drawn to him as a moth was to a flame. This was a dangerously fatal combination, even at her age she knew what happened to moths. His eyes so entrancing, so dark with just a flare of amber to them, those markings on his high cheek bones, his lips with their complete utter perfection. Her mouth dried and heart raced so fast she knew he could hear it. As he tilted his head to the side bits of his locks draped across his features giving him a pure animalistic presence. He reminded her of a wolf she had seen once in the forest. The same feeling came over her then as she had now. She was frozen unable to move yet captivity by the creature just as she was to him. The wolf glared at her just as this man did with eyes that could capture your soul. A hunger exuberated from the wolf and now the man, which went beyond food.

"Girl" he growled loudly startling her back to her scenses"bring me my food"

Taking a rather large gulp in her throat, Tamara finally moved forward toward the scout in the barely lit corner. Standing near him she placed his mug of ale, her hand tremble so that the mug jilted from side to side, spilling over her small hand. She heard him chuckle beneath his breath which only served to make her more nervous, yet at the same time angered her. Standing straighter now she cast a look at him. He glared at her from the side as his head was slightly titled and his eyes cast up at her. Suddenly finding courage she grabbed his bowl of stew and forcibly slammed it on the table between his extended arms, causing some of it to slosh out onto his left hand. She caught her breath as his head turned completely to the side now looking at her as though he was going to pounce on her at any moment. She heard a low growl escape his throat. She took several steps back as she hurriedly placed the entire tray on the table's edge. Just as quickly she disappeared back to Vanora.

Lifting his hand Tristan shook of the dripping food onto the floor. He laughed lowly as a skirmish grin crossed his lips.

'Interesting' he thought with a chuckle 'spirited little filly she's turned out to be' licking the rest of the food particles off his hand with his mouth he once again smiled as he looked toward the wall in her direction 'this is going to be enjoyable'

Storming up to the kitchen area Tamara slammed her hands on the counter top, letting out disgruntled sound, followed by an exasperated release of breath.

"I see you have met our Tristan" laughed Bors who was standing with a baby in his arms

Tamara snapped her head around in his direction in surprise. She had been so flustered from her recent encounter with the scout that she had not even noticed anyone standing there. Staring at him with a rather surprised expression on her face, she wondered how he knew.

"Do not worry girl, he has that affect on all women." He roared loudly

Vanora made her way up to the pair, placing a kiss on her child's head as she took the babe from his arms.

"This is my Bors, my lover… I was telling you about him earlier." She said as he grabbed her around the waist pulling her against his chest "This is Tamara, my new helper" she said looking up and back at Bors

"So how was it" she laughed

"He is rude and boarish" she pouted with her arms crossed

Bors let out loud boisterous laugh that echoed across the tavern "That's our Tristan…. looks like he has gotten to you already and so quickly this time"

"Do not be ridiculous" she protested "I could never be with a man such as the likes of him."

Casting each other a humorous glance the lovers chuckled.

"Careful dearie" Vanora said "never is a long time and a dangerous word" she laughed as she passed Tamara she leaned in close "I said the very thing about Bors and now look where I am….nine babies later" she laughed as she handed Tamara the child "remember the magical pull…remember the power of their pull" she chanted as she made her way towards the tables followed closely by Bors

Tamara stood holding the baby who began crying. Trying to console the whaling infant the tiny girl rocked him up and down. Looking towards Vanora who laughed and held her arms out Tamara made her way.

Looking to her right she caught the glance of the scout who emerged from the shadows toward Bors. Taking a place at the table he looked at Tamara.

"More ale girl" he said as he placed his mug heavily on the table "Be quick on it this time"

Tamara grumbled under her breath as she made her to the kitchen area to fetch his ale. Just as she neared the area Gawain and Galahad entered the tavern. Catching her eye as the golden haired knight passed by, he smiled at her with his boyish charm. Tamara looked toward the table seeing the scout's face contorted, looking at her with dark eyes.

**To be continued...**


	4. Family Man

**Disclaimer: The usual**

**Never underestimate the the possessivness of a two year old child...**

**This chapter is just a plain fun...cute...adorable- funny- light hearted chapter...so enjoy...**

**Ok- on a suggestion I went back and took out the "translation" for Hanna (please keep in mind that it is the way a two year old says words that makes it all that more adorable) so I did not change the phonetics of the way she says the words.. hope that is abit better ..and thanks for the suggestion it always helps... :-)**

**Chapter 4: Family Man**

**This chapter takes place at the time of the movie. Tristan, Tamara and Hanna**

His long leg protruded from under the covers draping off the side of their bed, his hair haphazardly tossed across his face. Tamara's swollen belly nestled contently against the small of her husband's back, her breasts firmly pressed on his shoulder blades, while his face rested upon the forearm of her right arm. The pair enjoyed the quiet slumber of the early morning their breathing in unison. The sunlight trickled in through the window in shimmering streams of golden hues casting across their faces. Outside the birds could be heard heralding in the rush of another day, another day closer to his freedom.

Tristan's mouth moved up and down slightly as he brushed his tongue across his teeth, trying to remove the gritty feeling from his mouth. His eyes struggled to open, his throat made a muffled moan as he began to stir. With knitted brows his eyes opened to a slit as his mouth stretched his jaw downward. Finally managing to force one eye open the scout attempted to focus on the small figure before him. His eyes slowly adjusted to his surroundings. Through the tossed strands of his hair he made out the precious face of his daughter, her chin resting patiently on his extended arm.

"Papa" she whispered almost inaudible "Papa dit up, papa… dit up.." her small hand slowly reached for his face to gently pat his cheeks "me wanna wide papa"

He groaned as his hand reached around his daughter, pulling her up in bed.

"Oh, little lamb come lie with your papa for a short time." He said holding her next to his chest

His wife snaked closer to his body firmly pressing her belly into him so he could feel his unborn child kicking and rolling against his back. Slowly shifting onto his back he stretched his arms out as the two women whom he loved more than life itself cuddled comfortably in the crook of his shoulders. His legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, both females running their fingers through his chest hair, his fingers gingerly caressing each of them. Hanna began chatting away as her hand pat her father's chest. His wife, still slumbering in his arms traced her fingers up and down his midsection while his unborn child continued to roll and kick. The scout closed his eyes in hopes of extending these few treasured moments of peace and utter happiness he shared with the women in his life.

"Momma…" Hanna said suddenly sitting up "Momma…momma…momma" reaching over her father she began to gently pat her mother's face "Momma…. yisten a me"

"Yes Hanna what is it child? Oh dear… it is early in the morning lamb." Her mother moaned

"Papa wide… we go… bye bye momma" she said "papa..mon papa" the two year old insisted

"Alright lamb…alright…papa will take you for a ride…." He said rolling over in the opposite direction of his child he captured his woman in his arms as she in turn rolled over, her back now against his chest "you go get your sandals and dress on…alright… papa needs to get dressed…" he said pulling Tamara close to him

"Otay papa I dit drwessed…I papa bit durl now" Hanna made her way off the bed

"Yes my lamb you are papa's big girl" he said softly as he felt her sweet kiss brush his cheek

"Papa…you tay her I be wight back…no eave me papa" she said scooting off their bed pointing her finger at her father

"No lamb no papa won't leave you…I will stay right here with your momma." he sleeply stated

Tristan chuckled as the sound of little feet could be heard as they made their way across the floor.

"You know she can barely dress herself husband." Tamara whispered

"Yes, I know… that should keep her occupied for a bit…whiles I…." he said as his hands roamed his wife's thighs pressing his now firm manhood against her "occupy her mother"

"Husband….." she giggled sensually

"Good morrow woman" he growled huskily

"Good morrow husband" she moaned quietly as the scout rolled her over, hoisted her up by her hips to meet him and claimed her

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Later that day in the tavern:**

The knights sat around the table enjoying their afternoon ale discussing the news of their impending discharge papers which were to arrive in a few weeks time. Each one of the men making plans for home. Discussing what their thoughts were and even if they planned to leave at all. After all Britian had become their home, at least for some of them. Hanna sat in front of her father playing with a small wooden sword the scout made for her as she ate pieces of cheese,bread and bits of apple her father cut for her.

Jillian, one of the newest whores to make her employment at the fortress strolled her way towards the table. Occupying the vacant seat next to the scout she lend toward his masculine figure. After several moments of idle chatter she slid closer to the scout. Tristan paid no attention to her, his attention was on his daughter and his ale. He was well accustomed to the advancement of wanton women and made it his practice to ignore them as he could not be bothered with their idle nonsense and chatter.

Jillian on the other hand had desired the scout from the moment she saw him. Something about his musky animalistic scent and appearance beckoned her. Certainly she knew he had a wife and child, which only made him all the more appealing and desirable to her. He was a challenge that she would conquer.

Shortly Jillian was nearly sitting in the scout's lap, purring in his ear rubbing his leg. Tristan made a motion with his arm pushing her away. Casting in her direction a look of annoyance.

Hanna who had been intently watching this woman for several moments from her perch in the middle of the table moved closer toward her father.

"You…you…." Tapping the woman on her head "dis is my papa" Hanna stated firmly patting Tristan's face

"Yes I know…he is your father" Jillian said trying to dismiss the child

Jillian resumed her plan of action on the scout, who still ignored the woman making conversation with the other knights.

"Dis is my papa….not yous" Hanna said again looking at Jillian with knitted brows and a crinkled nose

"Yes yes…yes little girl…I know …..he is your papa." She said with a tone of annoyance

Scooting closer to the edge of the table so her legs dangled down in Tristan's lap, Hanna pressed her cheek against his wrapping her arms around her father's neck

"My papa" she said again "You do ober dare" she pointed to the end of the table

Jillian merely looked at the child moving closer to Tristan who cast her a stern look.

Lifting her left foot Hanna stretched it out toward the woman's neck as her hand reached out with pointed fingers.

"GO…. Ober dare... way a my papa!" she said in a growling tone moving her face toward the woman

"Look here little girl... look at my face little girl…you will not speak to me in such a manner." Jillian sternly stated

Tristan shot straight up growling with protective eyes at the woman. Just then Hanna took control of the situation.

"NO …you yook …..a…MY FACE!" growling in a loud voice (which was rather unusual for the normally quiet child) looking at the woman with clinched fists and angry scowl "YOOK a my face….. TEE it a mad face! Tay da way a my PAPA!" she yelled

Within seconds Hanna picked up her wooden sword and smacked the top of the woman's head, causing her to yelp and leap toward the two year old child. The daughter of the scout quickly and instinctively jumped into the safety of her father's arm. Galahad, who had been sitting just across the woman, swiftly and forcibly grabbed her right arm jerking her back toward the end of the table adding a snarling glare at her.

"No" snapped the youngest knight

"You do not value your life much do you woman." the scout snorted as he held his daughter close with his left arm putting himself between the two

"Your daughter is brat! You should teach that child manners!" She snapped as she jumped up and stormed off brushing past Tamara who had just entered the tavern

Making her way toward the table she gazed upon the knight's who all wore snarling expression upon their faces. Looking back at Jillina who had just left the tavern the scout's wife made her way towards her family. Taking her place next to her husband and child Tamara looked around the table at the men, then back at her husband and child. Gently stroking her daughter's hair she asked:

"What ever happened here?" she inquired with an astonished smile

The knight's began to chuckle loudly. Tristan looked into his daughter's face chuckling. The child had her arms folded across her chest and still wore a scowl expression.

"My papa!" Hanna said giving the scout a tight hug

"Yes lamb I _**am**_ your papa." He said proudly

Vanora came up behind Tamara laughing as well as she placed a cup of milk down for Hanna.

"Oh nothing much going on here save your daughter protecting your interests!" she laughed

Tamara cast a quizzical glance at her husband then child.

The tale was relayed to Tamara who laughed so hard she had to hold her belly. Taking her child in her arms she hugged tightly.

"That is momma's good girl… watching out for those naughty women who try to steal your papa away from your momma."

"Hur bad durl momma" Hanna said patting her mother's cheeks

"Aye indeed she is Hanna." she said kissing her child upon her cheek

Pointing her finger at Galahad.

"Momma…my Dahad … momma… " patting Tamara's cheeks "momma... yisten a me...my Dahad he tay hur NO…" she said pointing her finger at Galahad.

Tristan wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulder. The group sat for some time talking and reminiscing.

**To be continued...**


	5. Within His Grasp Gawain's Version

**Disclaimer: The usual…. Touchstone Pictures not me boohoo**

**This chapter flashes back three years from the movie**

**Chapter 5: Within His Grasp- Gawain's Version**

From the end of chapter 3-

Tamara grumbled under her breath as she made her to the kitchen area to fetch his ale. Just as she neared the area Gawain and Galahad entered the tavern. Catching her eye as the golden haired knight passed by, he smiled at her with his boyish charm. Tamara looked toward the table seeing the scout's face contorted, looking at her with dark eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The knight's movement slowed to near a snail's pace as he eyes enveloped her small frame. She was new, she was fresh he pondered as he watched her . Yet she was different somehow than the other's who dwelled about the fort. Something about her sweet innocence immediately attracted him. She could be his toy he thought to himself and he would enjoy her. Best to make a move quickly before Lancelot devoured her alive, as he always enjoyed doing to the unprotected.

Gawain's boyish charm and captivating smile were his most powerful weapons on the fairer sex. A weapon indeed and there was no doubt that he was the master when it came to the art subtle charm. Unlike Lancelot who hit his victims head on like a bull in heat, Gawain won women over with the slow mesmerizing grasp of an intoxicating serpent.

Looking back toward the golden haired knight Tamara was suddenly struck by his hypmotizing gaze. Locked between this world and an unknown parallel, she was unable to move as though she were somehow chained to him. She would be chained to his command by his power, by his pull he would see to it.

Without laying a hand on her he turned her in a circle. His masculine body dangerously close to hers just a breath's air away a though they were in a dance. He looked down at her and she could feel the warmth of his breath brush upon her forehead. She was captured by him in a moment's time. The pounding within her breast was all the sound she heard, that fierce beat within her.

His smile, oh that smile, she thought, and his eyes, so alluring. He was strikingly beautiful with his wild main of golden hair. Never had she seen such a man as he.

"Hello" he whispered

"Good day sir knight" was all she could barely whisper

Slowly reaching over her right shoulder Gawain purposely positioned himself so that he was even closer to her, allowing his muscular frame to brush softly against her cheek as he grabbed a vile of wine from the counter. Intentional was his objective, which he met with great success. She swayed catching herself against the rim of the bar counter. Inwardly he chuckled; outwardly he smiled with a cocked eyebrow.

"I am called Gawain" he again whispered

Finding herself unable to move or even speak, she began to pant with shorten breath as his body gently pressed against hers.

"And you would be called?" his lips brushed her forehead

"Ah" she attempted to swallow "Tamara…. I am called Tamara" clearing her throat

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tristan growled deep within his chest as he watched the interlude between the two of them, disgust consumed his mind at his comrade's brazen action towards the helpless girl.

'Such easily controlled creature's women were' he grumbled as he clinched the hilt of his dagger tighter

Such weak minded creatures, yes that is what all women were in his eyes, weak he mulled.

The scout became noticeably and most uncharacteristically fidgety in his chair, which drew the attention of Vanora who watched him most ardently. She smiled, for in all the years that she had known the elusive man never had she seen any woman cause this affect upon him.

His brooding and grunting became more intensified as he watched Gawain and Tamara circle one another like two lovers. He bit his lower lip till it was near bleeding as his nostrils flared and his eyes shot flames of fire towards the pair. His body now hunkered over as his head sunk between his shoulder blades. Watching every movement Tamara made through the strands of hair that cast across his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"A pleasure my lady" Gawain smiled

"Thank you sir" she timidly said as a red blush blessed her cheeks

"You are new to these parts?" he inquired soulfully

Tamara was overcome by a sudden urge to look toward the table where Tristan was. She cast her eyes upon him noting his body now hunkered over in his chair. His look pierced her, seductively frightened her, as his eyes seemed to glow an amber fire from beneath his tasseled locks. She found herself suddenly unnerved by his stare. She was left breathless at his dangerous beauty. She reflected how different the two men were, yet both so captivating. Stepping in front of her, Gawain cleared his throat in an attempt to regain control of her attention.

"No, I am not….my father is the Miller…I have lived here all my life." She said growing suddenly uncomfortable as though she had done something wrong.

"All your life?" the golden haired knight laughed "And how long has that been?"

Startled by his question she laughed "Fifteen….I am fifteen." She smiled coyly

"HHHHMMM fifteen, just the right age" the knight smiled sensually

"Pardon me" she asked quizzically

"Nothing, I meant nothing by it" he said "How is it that I have not noticed you before?"

"My father did not allow me to come to the fort" she said "Before now that is"

Looking around Gawain's arm she was caught in Tristan stare once again, this time even more pensive, more frightening, causing her to tremble.

"I beg thee leave sir, I have duties here, and I must tend to them." she pleaded breathlessly

She made her move past Gawain, taking several steps toward the table when she realized she was empty handed. Closing her eyes she jerked her head and clinched her small fists. Quickly she returned to the bar counter, never allowing her eyes to lift from the floor. Grabbing the mug of ale she hurried as she made her way back to the table where the brooding scout sat.

She returned to the table as swiftly as her legs would carry her. Tamara stood close enough to the scout that she brushed against his arm. She gingerly placed the mug of ale just in front of the scout who never looked up. Her heart raced a thousand beats a minute. Her small hands placed upon her belly she prayed he would not hear her heart pounding within her.

"Bout bloody time" he growled in his deep husky foreign accent

Cautiously he turned his head toward her, his longest braid dangled across his prodominate cheek bone which was marked by his tribal tatoo. He looked straight through her, into her soul, of this she was certain. The man rubbed his lips together in the tensest manner as his long fingers wrapped around his mug of ale.

From the corner of his eye he watched as Gawain came into his view just to the left of Tamara. He brushed against her causing her to rock forward toward the scout. Taking a seat just the other side of Bors and Vanora the golden haired knight placed his cup of wine to his lips and drank, his eyes focused on Tamara.

With great force the scout exhaled and stood up, slamming his mug on the table. He stood before Tamara blocking her view of Gawain. She looked up at him with big eyes, her body trembling ai his closeness. Their eyes locked in what seemed an eternity before he stepped closer to her forcing her to move out of his way. The scout, with heavy footsteps made his way out of the tavern.

After watching his exit Tamara turned around to find herself face to face with Vanora.

"Come with me love" she smiled as she took the younger girl by the elbow leading her to the bar counter

"Well, then" she said as they stood next to one another "You certainly have made an impression your first day here."

"I have done nothing" she said nervously "I sware"

"Oh dearie, you have done more than you can ever imagine." Laughed the viberant red head

Looking upon her confused innocent face Vanora took Tamara's chin within her hand.

"I will but cast a warning your way. Be careful for you are playing with fire." She said "Do not pit those two against one another."

"But…. but… I have done nothing to encourage either of them." She whispered

"Whether you did or did not intentionally….you have…." Vanora said

Turning toward the counter to fetch a tray of food Vanora stopped and cast a motherly look to the girl

"I have known Tristan for many years, never before have I seen him react to a girl the way he has this night." She said cautiously "Again I caution you, do not pit them against one another. They are brothers in more ways than blood runs thick. Gawain plays this game well then moves on quickly. He is light hearted and holds no malice. Tristan on the other hand is not a man who takes to losing well at all. He is very possessive."

Her eyes followed Vanora as she made her way across the tavern. All too quickly her eyes fell on Gawain once again. He sat before her smiling through his eyes at her as his mouth took in the sweet taste of wine. Turning her head towards the street she had the distinct feeling that the scout watched her. She could not see him; she could feel him, feel the heat of his eyes upon her.

**To be continued….**


	6. No Worries

**Disclaimer: the usual...**

**Her first day at the tavern was not what she ever expected...but now it was done... she could return home to the comfort of her bed...**

**Chapter 6: No Worries**

Her shift done, it was over, and thanks to the heavens it was. What a day it had been. Who knew people could be so hungry and thirsty so much? She was on her feet shuffling to and fro as the tavern was extremely busy this day. Oh how her feet and back ached. She was use to hard work helping out at the mill with her father but that was nothing compared to this day. Her feet hurt, burned more like it, like the coals on a fire. She leaned against the wall just outside the kitchen area and removed one of her shoes, rubbed her foot, then the other. Releasing a heavy sigh she heard the sound of rolling thunder.

"Wonderful" she grumbled placing her shoes back on her feet

Where was her father? He promised he would come for her, to make sure she got home safely.

No doubt he was passed out sound asleep at the table. Seemed he was drunk more than often these days since her mother died.

Standing straight she brushed her apron, took a deep breath and knew he was not coming for her. Yes, it was time for Tamara to begin her journey home, alone. She was tired from the long day at the tavern and would have preferred a peaceful walk home, instead of a rainy one.

Dusk was upon the day as she made her way down the market street and around the corner she felt the first drop of rain. Why did it always seem to rain when she had traveling to do, she grumbled to herself? Stopping she leaned against the stone wall removing her shoes again, she could not help but rub her sore feet. At least the rain would make the grass wet and comfort her feet she thought.

She loved to walk, especially through the fields, the way the grasses felt beneath her feet. Yes, the rain would make the journey on her feet a little soothing.

The mill her father owned was not far on the outskirts of the fort. She would make her way through the streets heading out the sides gates and through the field. She decided to take the short cut that went through the knight's cemetery.

A few more drops plop… plop on her head.

'Wonderful' she chirped

Holding her shoes in her hands now the young girl hurried her pace. She stopped suddenly and looked over her shoulder. It was not a sound that made her stop but a feeling. It was a feeling that she was being watched. Shaking her head at her silliness she continued her walk.

A few more steps and she stopped holding her breath. The thunder rolled, a few more drops came down. This time she turned completely around allowing her eyes to quickly scan the area, nothing.

Nothing, nothing at all. Still she felt eyes burning her skin; a chill ran up her spin. More drops fell on her head.

'Almost there, almost to the side gates, must hurry before they close for the curfew' she thought her feet moving fast

She passed through the gates quickly keeping her head down assuring that she would not make eye contact with the centurions as she did. She heard them, those Romans, heard their filthy comments. She certainly could hear the whispered crude remarks of the centurions as she did.

Filthy pigs they were the Romans, she hated them. Everyone hated them being around. If it wasn't for Arthur and his Knights keeping order the Romans would have the place in havoc and utter chaos. No one would be safe, especially a girl like her.

'Exhale, a deep breath, all is well now, you are safe' she smiled

* * *

She slowed her pace just a little. She would enjoy this walk home even if it did rain. She was near the Knight's cemetery, it was lovely she thought. Lovely, it was peaceful in the way the torches eluminated the swords that marked their graves. She stopped in front of one, taking in her hand a long ribbon that hung from its handle.

The thunder rolled…. A few more drops…then more… just when she thought she was safe.

"Bruese" the voice rumbled as did the sound of the thunder

Jumping back she grabbed at her dress as she tripped, falling on the ground. A shadow fell across her body, she dared not look up. She clasped her hands together and rolled them over and over each other. Keeping her head down she felt the presence move closer to her. She held her breath.

"Bruese" the voice echoed again

This time she watched as out of the corner of her eye she caught his figure squatting down next to her. His knees bent, elbows resting on his thighs, reins in his right hand.

Moments passed before she finally mustered the nerve to look up. Her heart racing as her eyes slowly made their way up his form to his face. It was him, the brooding scout, Tristan.

His eyes so dark and penetrating, the pair locked gazes. He fidgeted with the reins, she her hands.

"Bruese" he said once more

"Yes, so you keep saying that. What does it mean?" she asked tercly

Pointing his finger at the sword before her, yet never lost her gaze.

"His name…. Bruese" with a tone of annoyance "His name was Bruese"

"Oh, his name, yes I see then right" she was embarrassed she could feel the heat rise across her face "You knew him well did you?"

The scout shook his head. Minutes later he spoke.

"He was from my tribe" his words soft low and melodic it was almost hypnotizing

Silence fell between them once again, an awkward silence for the both of them. She looked down at her hands. The thunder rolled again, more drops.

"I must be going."

"He should not allow you to walk home alone; it is not safe for a girl like you"

'A girl like me' she thought 'what is that suppose to mean. I suppose he thinks me weak. Boarish man' she huffed

"Who should not allow me?" she demanded

"Your father...that is who...unless you have a husband..." he said as his eyebrow cocked up

"I have no husband...not that it is any of your concern..and as for my father..he is a very busy man." she said grumbling

Sensing that her mood changed, which he noted to himself she was quick to do, he stood up. Turned and mounted his horse. Tamara still sitting on the ground looked up at the knight. The flickers from the torches cast lovely shadows on his face. Her heart raced and she could feel her breath quicken. He was indeed a captivating person.

"Well girl" he grunted "I haven't all night"

She hadn't noticed that the rain became heavier. Looking up at him the sting from the drops hit her face, stinging.

'The nerve of him' she huffed as she sat with her arms crossed

"Look girl…get off your arse _NOW_ and come over here." His face contorted "I will not catch hell from the likes of Vanora just because you are a foolish stubborn child."

Standing up Tamara cast the scout a look of defiance, her eyes cinched as her brows knitted. She stomped her foot, turned then began to walk away. Her strides became quick as she wanted nothing more than to be away from his ill temper. She had not made it more than ten paces when the strong arm of the scout jerked her up by the arm. Her body was hurled then twisted in the air till it came to rest across his lap. Making a clicking noise with his tongue his trusted steed obeys his command, steadying his pace to a slow trot. His hand braced hard against her back to keep her from falling.

This was uncomfortable indeed she thought as her body was jostled up and down against the saddle bridge. Her hair now had all fallen from the ribbon that secured it earlier.

"Let me up this minute" she screamed at him punching his boot

He smiled and chuckled. 'She has fire…I like it' he pulled the reigns back bringing his horse to a stop the horse moved its rear to the left causing a few bumps to Tamara

"Sit up then girl" he mumbled

She braced her hands against his leg, pushing as hard as she could in hopes to cause the knight pain. Suddenly she began to slip to the ground but was caught as his arm reached around her waist. Her hands grabbed his tunic just above his waist, causing him to jump slightly at the near miss of his manhood. That would have been painful he thought to himself. Awkwardly she scrambled up on the saddle so that she was straddled, her legs resting on his. She sat up straight and stiff arching her back away from his chest. The horse moved his hind legs in the opposite direction now positioning himself to the right. Tristan gently kicked his boots and the horse proceeded.

The rain fell in a soft shower as the thunder rolled. The scout wrapped his left arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. She fought against him at first, but his grip only tightened at her protest.

"Damn it girl be still will you" he growled as he pulled his cloak around them "You want to get soaked?"

Her body trembled at his closeness. Her heart racing and the blood raging throughout her veins as the warmth of his breath whispered in her ear. He felt her body yeild and this pleased him.

"Relax" he whispered "I have no desire to hurt you, nor do I intend to defile you…relax"

She allowed her body to relax as she did it was though she melted into him.

'That's more like it' he chanted proudly to himself as the rain fell on their heads he bent down taking in her scent it was a pleasant aroma. Her hair wet from the rain only caused the oils and soaps she used to wash her hair with to be acccentuated. A stirring within came over him causing him to growl in distain

'Oh by all that is in heaven… his hold is wonderful' she could not help but think. The close proximity of his muscular body to her own body. 'Wanton thoughts stop it Tamara' she scolded herself. She wiggled her hips as an uncontrolable burning reached between her thighes.

There was once again an awkward silence that fell between the two of them. She could feel his breath, see it because of the chill in the damp night air. So close...he was so close she thought.

So close... she was so close...he thought to himslef as the feel of her body pressed against his. He could have her, take her willingly or not. He closed his eyes tightly for mere seconds.

"No" he said out loud

"Pardon?" she asked

'Had she heard my spoken word out loud? What a fool you are man. Quickly what could I say to recover.'

"We are near the mill..I said " he grunted

"Oh I thought you said... 'NO' " she half chuckled

* * *

The pair once again settled into a long silence. Their bodies rocking in unison with the slow rythmic strides of the horse. Just as he was about to break the silence the dim light from her father's cottage could barely be seen, just barely a glow.

"We are here" he said in a monotone voice

"Yes, this is where I live" she said quietly

"Yes, I know that" he mumbled as if he were an idot and did not know where the Mill was, stupid girl

He rode his horse to the front door but paused before he released his hold on her. She tried to pull away but he found he could not bring himself to let her go…just yet.

"I should go in" she whispered as she looked up over her shoulder into his dark eyes

"Yes you should" he repeated as he pressed his lips together, his grip loosened as she slid from his lap down to the ground

"Thank you scout" she said meekly as she pressed her dress down then turned to leave

"Tristan" he retorted under his breath

"Pardon"

"Tristan…my name is Tristan not scout" he said with a sour tone

"Of course…my apology…Thank you Tristan" she felt badly for hurting his feelings

"Humph" was his reply as he watched her enter the cottage and close the door behind her. He watched her shadow as it crossed in front of the window.

* * *

She closed the door and for a second leaned against its hardness tryng to gain composure. The fire was nearly out; her father slumped over the table passed out snoring so loudly he could have woken the dead.

Tamara took her shawl off and gently draped it over his shoulder.

"Oh father" she whispered kissing his head.

She made her way to the hearth, took hold of the poker and began stoking the amber ashes with the rod. Suddenly she felt a hand clasp over hers, startled she looked up and gasped.

"Tristan" she exclaimed

"Let me tend to that" the scout said taking the poker from her hand "You look after him" he motioned his head towards her father

She looked over toward the table, ashamed. He cast his eyes at the old man then back at her.

"No shame in a drink Tamara" he said trying to ease her worried looked

He said her name.. not girl.. but her name. She liked the way it sounded coming from his mouth. His accent was so different so exotic. Looking at her father then back at Tirstan she let a heavy sigh out.

"He hasn't been the same since my mother passed." She said quietly

Tristan did not reply but set about tending to the fire.

Tamara made her way to her father. She picked up the fallen pitcher from the floor and began cleaning the table.

The scout was bent down poking the coals in the hearth. He reached over grabbing a few small pieces of kindling then placed them on the coals. He watched her out the corner of his eye. Her frame so small, so delicate...almost child like. He watched her movements as though he stalked her. His body shifted from one leg to the other. Taking a piece of fire wood from the pile that lay just to his right the scout placed the log on the kindling which had now form a nice fire. He stood up, rubbed his hands together warming them.

After the fire was roaring and the room well lit Tristan made his way over towards Tamara. She would not look up at him, shame filled her heart.

"Let me help you bring your father to bed girl."

"No…no I can manage … thank you all the same…" she said

"You could not pick up a sack of grain girl let alone a drunken man. I will help you, where is his bed?" he stated firmly

Her eyes cast up to his, suddenly she detected a softness…more apt to be pity she thought to herslef. She looked down again.

"His bed girl?" he snorted as he picked the old man up

"Over here" she led the way as Tristan carried him to his bed.

Placing him down gently he helped Tamara remove his boots. The man began to speak in his sleep, mumbling inaudible sentences. The two caught each other's stare and smiled slightly.

Exiting the room Tamara closed the door behind her. She looked over and saw that Tristan was at the front door, ready to make his exit.

"You should change your wet clothes...you will catch a chill...the fire is warm...it is good now" his hand on the door handle

"Tristan" she said softly

The scout stopped his leg nearly out the door.

"Thank you…for everything"

"No worries" he said not turning around

The door shut and he was gone.

To be continued…


	7. The Next Morning

**Disclaimer: the usual- Touchstone Pictures owns them I don't except for mine and they don't I do.**

**Time- three years before the movie, the night after chapter 6**

**Chapter 7: The Next Morning**

Dawn approached as Tamara lay in her warm comfortable bed thinking of him; that brooding, moody, handsome and captivating scout of Arthur's. Her arm extended across her eyes as she lay in her bed. Simone curled up on her belly; he was her one true friend and confidant these past five seasons. She told Simone all her secrets because he would keep them safe and protected. Her hand reached down to stroke the feline as his paws kneaded her stomach.

Her thoughts drifted to what had happened the night before. Playing each moment spent with his arms around her and the way he made her feel over and over again in her mind. One moment she felt safe the next as though he would surly snap her like a twig. How frustrating it all was to her. Yes he was indeed _frustrating and infuriating then wonderful and charming_ she thought as she let out a deep sigh.

Stepping out of bed in only her shift she made her way downstairs. Silence, oh the peace, she loved this time of the morning when all was still within the walls of the cottage. Opening the door to his bedroom she could see that her father lay where Tristan had placed him there in his bed. Sadness filled her soul. She missed her mother very much. She closed the door and made her way to the hearth.

Tamara took hold of the poker, holding it in her hand she smiled thinking how the touch of his hand felt as it wrapped around hers. Her stomach fluttered, her cheeks flushed. Shaking her head she placed the poker in the coals and stoked them up before placing pieces of kindling. Once the fire started again Tamara placed several pieces of wood. Simone rubbed her legs, making circular patterns form one leg to the next as he meowed loudly for his breakfast.

"Alright then let us go to the barn and fetch some milk for you." She bent down and picked the cat up and held him in her arms as she made her way toward the door.

Slipping on her shoes and then her shawl she left the cottage. The mist covered the ground in a thick blanket as the sun lit the first hours of the day. Letting Simone down she wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders and tied it in a loose knot. Heading to the barn she heard a loud screech in the distance, she looked to the sky but saw nothing. Simone on the other hand scurried to the barn without hast.

"Well there girl how was your night eh?" she whispered as her hand caressed the back of the milk cow in the stall.

Tamara gathered the leather milking pouch and stool from the corner. Setting the stool near the cow's utters she began her morning ritual of milking. She sang to the cow as it seemed to calm her nerves and steady the beast while she milked. Simone sat patiently to the side waiting for Tamara to shoot some breakfast his way, which she did, spraying the cat in the mouth with milk. She laughed.

There was a screech again, this time it was louder, drawing her attention to the rafters. Her eyes beheld a beautiful hawk with red wings and a white tipped tail sitting majestically as it gazed down at her cat. Suddenly the hawk flapped its wings releasing a loud predatorily screech. Simone ran for cover towards the front of the large cow. The sudden commotion caused the large animal to become startled by the cat and the screech of the hawk, kicking over the pale of milk.

"Look what you have done! OH! " she shouted in anger as she stood with her hands upon her hips "You had better not even think of it you… shew…shew…shew…go about your way!" she commanded waving her shawl at the bird of prey but to no avail. The creature merely sat mocking her as it turned its head from side to side in curious wonder.

The hawk swooped down to perch its self upon a stall partition. Bending its neck forward toward Tamara the fowl let out a sound of defiance to the young woman.

"You should give up, you won't win." His voice deep and sultry "I have never won an argument with her yet, in all these years."

Tamara spun around to find the scout leaning against the opening of the barn, his leg crossed at the ankle, his arms folded across his chest.

"Is she yours?" she inquired pointing her finger at the bird "This menace is yours…I should have guessed as much."

With that the hawk screeched and took flight swooping in attack formation at Tamara who quickly ducked to the ground as the falcon headed out the barn opening into the sky.

"Now you have gone and done it." He smarted "You have gone and hurt her feelings…she is very sensitive…just like a woman….isn't very forgiving either…just like a woman."

He made his way farther into the barn till he was almost upon her. Standing up from her crouched protected position the young girl cast a look of fire and anger toward the lithe man who was fast approaching her. Her teeth gritted as she made a huffing moan while brushing the muck from her shift. She had forgotten that she wore only a thin shift. The material was shear and revealing, especially when the light cast upon it just right. He found her silhouette to be a particularly pleasing sight first thing in the morning.

He stood at the edge of the stall watching her. He leaned against the post, making himself at home as though he were master of the estate. Kicking his right boot up, he crossed it over his left ankle resting its tip on the dirt. Once again he folded his arms; a smirk of pleasure crossed his lips as he gazed down at the girl.

"What do you plan to do about this mess your bird made? Our milk for the day is gone." She grunted looking down at all the spilled milk from the overturned leather pale.

He smiled, looking at her across a cocked eyebrow and tangled locks.

"You are the one who made her angry not me, so why do you blame me?" he snarled.

"She belongs to you…so it is yo-"she began before he cut her words off.

"She belongs to no one…" he cut her off as he moved his slender body toward her, brushing her shoulder as he bent down to pick up the stool. His arm rested on her thigh as he leaned in, her body swayed, her stomach became queasy. He purposely took his time in returning the stool to its upright position so he might be in closer proximity to her. Slowly he raised himself, his face trailing her midsection lingering just a few seconds at her small but enticing breast, whose nipples could be seen rather nicely through her shift. His nose, his lips, his face so close to her being, uncontrollably her chest heaved up and down as he made his way up her torso. Soon his face was but a breath's air away from hers causing her eyes to flutter and her mouth to dry. Her body swayed back as though she would fall. Suddenly she felt his strong arm around her waist bracing her.

"Steady now." He whispered in that sultry accent of his "Wouldn't want you to fall again." He held her tightly as her back arched, her head tilted back ever so slightly and her hands were now pressed on his chest. He pulled her closer; she was helpless to fight any urge she had to object.

"Tamara…Tamara girl…. where are you…." The sudden yell from her father for the girl caused her to come back to reality and push herself free from the hold the scout had on her.

"Coming father…." She answered.

All of a sudden Tamara looked down; she released how immodest she was and attempted to cover her private parts with her hands. Her cheeks turned a flushed red color as heat raised within her from embarrassment.

Tristan bent down, took her shawl in his hands and gently draped it over her shoulders. Placing his hands on her arms he smiled.

"We cannot have you taking a chill can we." He said with a soft smile across his lips.

"Tamara child where are you?" called her father once again.

"I should go." she softly "Before he comes looking for me." She head toward the barn opening.

"I'll wait for you, get dressed." He replied.

"Wait for me?" she inquired with a quizzical expression.

"Yes, you are going to the tavern are you not?" he said matter of factly.

"Why yes I am …but…" she began.

"You will need a ride…I am going that direction from my night patrol….do not make a fuss about it woman….get dressed…it means nothing." He grumbled.

She smiled.

"Hurry girl….I have not all day to wait for you….I have duties." He moaned in a tone of annoyance as though she was causing him to go out of his way.

She turned and smiled once again as she wrapped her shawl tightly around herself.

To be continued…


	8. A LoseLose Situation

**Disclaimer: The usual-**

**Tamara finds herself in a lose-lose situation when no matter how hard she tries she manages to upset two men in one morning's time.**

**Chapter 8: A lose – Lose Situation**

He watched her leave his presence from the barn, watched as she shuffled across to the cottage. Each step she took was like she walked on air, so light, so delicate. She was just that; delicate, fragile and dainty. There was nothing to her, nothing special about her at all. She was just a typical village girl. She was simple. She was pure. _She was_….._damn it man,_ he thought, _what the hell are you doing here_?

His right hand came to his forehead where he rubbed feverishly. Then he scratched his beard as he watched her.

The farther the distance became between them the more he began to wonder exactly what it was that he was doing here, with her.

_Do not make a fuss about it, it means nothing, _he had told her just moments before. That was lie. If it meant nothing then why had he gone out of his way just to pass by her cottage? It was purely in the hopes of seeing her; that is why he had gone out of his way. Not only had he gone out of his way but he lingered, lingered in the dark waiting, like some lovesick pup fawning over her. This simple ordinary common girl, what right had she to creep into his thoughts?

She stopped suddenly, as though a forgotten thought had come to her mind. Turning slowly the girl stood in place just looking at him, her body trembling in from the chill of the morning air. The expression on her face was different than it had been just seconds prior. Her face gazed down at her feet before she looked up at his eyes again. Quickly she ran back to him. His heart jumped several times as he stood tall waiting for her. The corners of his mouth tipped up slightly, she was running back to _him_.

Finally she was standing right there in front of him, looking up with her smoky grey eyes. She was pretty in a way that pulled him. It was her purity and innocence that drew him so deeply to her. She was trusting and he trusted no one.

"You have your duties." She softly spoke looking up at him like a small fawn." Perhaps you should not tarry. I would not like to cause you trouble."

"My duties?" His tone obviously worsening. "My duties," He repeated stone cold.

His nose twitched as he meshed his lips tightly against one another, his head now cocked to the right and his eyes cinched together. Sensing he was not pleased Tamara tried to explain her thoughts on the matter. His head jerked down and to the right once more as he crinkled his nose again.

"I am sure that Arthur is waiting for your report. I would not want you to be in any trouble on my account. I can make my way to the tavern on my own. I thank you all the same."

He stared back at her, his demeanor hardening by the second. His eyes darkened, his lips pressed together.

"My duties," he snorted in a harsh tone of utter disdain. "Yes my duties, least I forget about _my duties._"

Brushing past her the scout nearly knocked Tamara to the ground as his body hit hers, purposely. She stumbled bracing herself on the of the barn wall for support. The scout grumbled beneath his breath as his long strides quickened to the dapple mare that waited for her master's return. With one swift motion he sat tall in the saddle. He grabbed the reigns and kicked the mare gently. The horse made her way in a gated trot.

"Women…this is what comes of it you arse." His words echoed in the breeze. "Serves you right, acting like Galahad, chasing after her like she is a bitch in heat. Idiot! What would a sweet girl like that want with a man like you anyhow? You have nothing, absolutely nothing to offer her."

The sound of his hawk bellowed from high above. He whistled and she came to rest on his left arm. She squawked at him in a scolding tone.

"I know…I know…you are right… I should learn my lesson and stay clear of the likes of her," he mumbled out loud to creature. "Who needs her…I sure as hell don't. She'll be nothing but a pain in my arse anyway. Probably want to share my bed, take over my covers…..my quarters…telling me what I can do and what I cannot do….then she will start crying when I don't….become all needy… all demanding….expect me to be all sensitive to her needs and desires." The hawk made a squeaking noise. "Oh yes the nagging that is right…thank you for reminding me of that one… I forgot about the nagging me all the time. The likes of her would no doubt have an ample share for me." He continued to regurgitate his thoughts to his hawk who sat perched on his arm adding a squawk in every now and again as part of the conversation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Whatever did I say that was so wrong, _She thought to herself as she watched the scout ride off without so much as a goodbye. _I was only trying to be thoughtful about his time_.

_That man is so infuriating; I do not know why I bother! Boarish pig…. stubborn idiot…. cantankerous fool….brooding….selfish….grumpy….man….stupid dumb man….. OH! That man!... _her thoughts got the best of her as she made her way into the cottage. Once inside she slammed the door so hard that a few items fell off the shelf on the adjoining wall.

"Daughter…what bothers you?" her father quietly asked.

"Men…..men and their stupidity bother me father!" Tamara hollered as she made her way up the stairs to her room.

Her father stood bewildered at his young daughter's sudden ranting about men. He scratched his head and went about his business.

Once inside her room she threw herself on her bed. She was so angry she kicked as hard as she could and screamed as profusely as she could into the mattress while her head shook from side to side. Tears filled her eyes and she began to cry. Why she was bothering to shed a tear for that rude male creature was beyond her understanding. She hoped to never lay eyes on him again.

After some time Tamara dried her eyes, got herself up off the bed to begin her day and make ready to head to the tavern. She put on her favorite red dress, braided and fastened her hair with a matching ribbon. Kissing her father she made her way towards the fort for another long day serving arrogant pigheaded selfish men.

_OH that man, he is so rude…so….so….frustrating…pigheaded…rude ….you said that already Tamara…well he is….very rude…I did not say very rude… I only said rude….and he is…and pigheaded…." _She continued her ranting and raving to herself for most of the journey to the fort. Seems she had arrived in no time at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before she knew it she was standing next to Vanora who looked upon the young girl with a smug look upon her lips as though she knew a secret. Placing her apron around her waist she tightly fastened it into a bow. With her hands she firmly pressed out any wrinkles. Tamara looked at Vanora who was standing with arms crossed and a huge smile across her face.

"How are you today dearie?" she inquired.

"Very well thank you." She snipped through gritted teeth.

"Oh aye…aye I can see that you are…very well….I mean." She laughed.

Vanora chuckled as Tamara twisted her head around exhaling a short but deep huff at the redhead.

"What humor do you find in my mood Vanora?" she grunted, displeased at being the brunt of her boss' joke.

"Oh…I do not know… just that I find it curious that is all," she added.

"How so?" the girl answered, although she really did not care about the answer.

"Oh nothing except that Tristan was only here a short time ago with the very attitude as yourself. Mumbling….snorting… very disagreeable…even more so than he usually does." She once again chuckled beneath her breath "I just find it curious that is all."

Tamara now stood with her arms folded across her chest with crinkled brows.

"TRISTAN," she snorted as she made her way to the bar counter.

"Aye, Tristan." The tavern owner laughed.

"Men are stupid…and selfish…rude….and…." she began before being cut off as she felt a strong hand come across her back. She could feel the warmth of his breath next to her ear as she his words whispered softly.

"Not all we men are stupid…selfish…rude…and….whatever else you were about to lash out of the beautiful little mouth of yours Tamara." Gawain whispered as he pulled her face near the crook of his neck rubbing the index finger of his free hand seductively over her lips. His gloriously beautiful long golden locks cascading down around them both, shielding their faces so that it gave the illusion that they were somehow secluded from all those around them. "Some of us are charming….thoughtful….loyal….ki" he was cut off before he could finish.

Galahad laughed out loud "You….loyal….since when my friend…." slapping Gawain on the back as he passed.

"Be careful young girl…. his tongue maybe silver but it is as double edged as his axe." Bors roared out in laughter.

"Well in my experience you are all that way." She responded coldly.

"In your vast experience of how many years?" laughed Gawain "Just how old are you my lady?"

"Fifteen…I am fifteen." She retorted.

"Oh yes…vast….experience," he chuckled.

"You mock me sir." She was angry.

"No petal….I would never mock you. You are too beautiful." He brushed the tip of her nose with his finger.

Gawain maneuvered himself around Tamara following the others. Looking back over his shoulder he winked at her. Tamara could not help but smile slightly at his overwhelming charm and striking good looks. Most of the knights took their places at the usual table in the middle of the tavern. Vanora and Tamara served the men drinks and food. The dark brooding scout was noticeably missing. It was commented that he was mulling about the stable in a more than usual pissy fowl mood. Somehow and she did not know why but this made Tamara sorrowful. She felt that somehow it was her doing that made him this way. She felt badly. Although she knew she should not feel this way as she did nothing but try and think of him this morning.

As she walked back to the table with pitcher in hand she felt Gawain's strong arm snake around her waist and pull her into his lap. Tenderly he held her braid within his hand, slowly placing it over her shoulder allowing his finger to trail from her ear to the base of her neck.

"I have to go out on a brief scouting mission later this day….would you fancy accompanying me?" he purred in her ear as his hand grazed up and down her legs.

At that very moment her eyes caught the midsection of the scout pass in front of the two. She could see that his fists were clenched tightly into a ball, his knuckles white. Out of the corner of her eye she followed his body as he made his way to his usual secluded spot. Just before he slipped into the shadows their eyes met in a stare. She immediately looked into her lap feeling as though she had shamefully behaved like some common whore.

Then he was gone.

Gawain took her chin with his knuckle lifting her head to meet his gaze. His smile so soft and tender his blue eyes so deep and beautiful. With raised eyebrows and a half cocked smile he looked at her.

"Your answer my lady would be….." he asked.

Looking back toward were Tristan sat she softly sighed. Gawain cast his eyes in the same direction. He too let out a sigh, only one of dissatisfaction.

"Perhaps another time," He replied quietly. He was unaccustomed to be rejected by females and most certainly did not like the feel of it. Losing was something he did not often experience, especially to the likes of a man such as his friend the scout.

"Perhaps that would be better. I have to return early this day to help my father at the mill. But I thank you for the offer just the same," She smiled coyly.

"Perhaps another time then" He said removing his arm from around her waist.

Tamara stood up and finished pouring the knights drinks. She smiled softly at Gawain who returned her smile but with a scent of disappointment.

How was it in a day's time had she managed to upset not one but two men. Slowly she made her way to the bar counter and placed the pitcher down. Looking up she was caught by the disapproving eyes of Vanora.

"I have done nothing to them," The girl said.

"I doubt that dearie. I give you more credit than I originally did," She laughed.

Tamara leaned her elbows on the counter top as she placed her chin in her hands. Her lips dipped down

To be continued….


	9. Confusion

**Disclaimer: the usual... this fun...**

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and emails I have been getting on this storyline. A special thank you to my "eyes".. my Beta Reader! You are awesome...**

**TL- I miss you ... You are the inspiration for this story...**

**Confusion sets in as two men ply for Tamara's affections.**

**Chapter 9: Confusion**

Several hours had passed since the knights had ventured into the tavern. The knights had come and gone then returned again, as they usually did throughout the day. Tristan too had come and gone several times as well, without so much as a word to her, except to bark an order for more ale or some food.

The end of her shift was drawing to an end. She was tired. Mostly she had become preplexed about the events that had transpired between her and Tristan this morning. She shouldn't really care one way or the other but she did. Something about him that just pulled her uncontrollably. She felt something for him, something strong, a desire. A desire that she was unfamilar with.

The time soon arrived when Gawain was to leave on his assigned scouting patrol.

Before he left he took the liberty of pulling Tamara off to the back of the tavern for some privacy. Taking her by the arm with his hand wrapped around her small waist, he guided her out the back and around the corner. He wanted her alone away from prying eyes and hawk like ears. He gently braced her against the wall, his right arm extended above her head his left leg extended out behind him as he leaned in to her. The long hair of his wild main dangled around her like blanket. He smiled at her charmingly.

"You are so beautiful Tamara," he whispered brushing his nose against her soft cheek. "I desire to kiss you so tenderly."

"Gawain, please," she whispered huskily, her knees weakened, her hands pressed against his chest.

She had never been kissed before, and this was not how she imagined her first time to be, in the back alley behind a tavern.

His touch, his closeness was overwhelming. Why is it that he made her head swim? She closed her eyes; she was half tempted to allow his mouth to cover her lips. No, she had never experienced a kiss and it would not be like this.

It was obvious to the knight that this girl was unaccustomed to such attentions by men. To be frank he seemed to unnerve her. She kept her head down, facing her hands, which were busy fiddling with a cloth. He could tell she was nervous, uncertain, so timid, and so pure.

There was something about her that appealed to him. He found that her inexperience only made him want her more and more. He desired from her something more than just her young flesh. Gawain was unmistakably drawn to her; finding he did not want to be without her closeness, the sound of her voice or the smell of her hair.

"Come with me," he pleaded. "Come on patrol with me, please."

"I have my duties here at the tavern," she caught her breath as he moved in closer. "Besides what would people think if I just trotted off with you?" she whispered.

"No one will notice. And I promise I will be honorable," He chuckled.

"They will notice. _They_ notice everything," She said.

"By _they_…you really mean Tristan," He said as he pushed back.

"I did not say that." Her head bowed down.

"Nor did you have to. I saw the way you looked at him. Concerned more for how he looked at _you_, when you graced my lap." He was noticably hurt.

"Tristan does not own me." She stood straighter, trying to mask her feelings for the scout.

"But you would like him to." Gawain's tone was soft.

Tamara did not reply. She rolled her hands slowly around and around each other, nervously.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, a sort of tension that grew. He was wounded, his pride was at any rate.

She was uncertain of her feelings for either of the men. Confusion set in. Her heart sank. She was not accustomed to these feelings and most certainly was not prepared to handle them.

Sensing he would not get his way this night, Gawain turned to leave, but then he stopped. He turned again to face her. Standing dangerously close to her again, he leaned in.

"He isn't the man for you Tamara." He spoke these words as his eyes locked on hers.

"And you are?" she nervously asked.

"I could be," He whispered tenderly as his voice drifted over her.

Again there was a silence as he stroked her hair tenderly with his hand, brushing her cheek with his finger tips.

"He is my friend; I have known him many years. My best friend, I would say next to Galahad," He cautioned her once again. "He is not for you. He is too hard a man. He is distant, reclusive and stoic." He leaned in close to her. "He will slowly drown a girl like you."

A look of confusion crossed her brow.

"What is it this day that I am referred to as 'a girl like you', what is that suppose to mean?" Her tone bore an air of frustration.

"It means, you beautiful creature, you are not like the other girls or women around the fortress Tamara. It is a jewel to find these days. You are most refreshing, to be honest."

"There is nothing special about me Gawain. I am just ordinary."

"You, my sweet petal, are anything but ordinary." He lifted her chin with the crook of his index finger.

"You have only just met me. You cannot speak to my character," she said as she softly looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Tis true, I have only just met you. Yet I feel as though I have known you for many years, perhaps even in some other life." He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. "I am a pagan remember," he laughed.

Turning once again he took several paces away from her. He stopped. Turning around he smiled at her, causing deep warmth to come over her.

"I would fight for you my sweet Tamara," he said then took a few more steps, and then turned again. "Because you would be... worth it."

She watched as he walked away, making his way around the corner into the night.

Then he was gone.

* * *

He rode, fulfilling his duty. His mind was not where it should be this night. His mind, his thoughts, his desires lay with her.

Night patrol, he despised it. Tristan was the one who loved it. Couldn't Arthur not just assign the scout to night patrol all the time? He had no life, sought no pleasures except the occasional release with a whore.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking a deep breath.

The scent of her skin lingered in his senses; the softness of her skin as his nose caressed her cheek consumed him. He wanted her, wanted to be near he, to get to know her, the real her. He wondered what it was that she thought about. What things did she enjoy, dream about? Was it a husband, some good man that she could make a home with? Did she dream of some man that would be good to her, kind and loving? Isn't that what all women wanted? Children, of course she would want children by him.

Why would she be interested in a man like Tristan?

He was right in telling her what he had about his friend. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of a man. She needed someone gentle and kind. Tristan was not that sort of man.

More importantly what interest did Tristan have in her? She was young, and Tristan never paid mind to young women. He laughed out loud. Woman, she was not a woman, she was a girl, a young girl.

Something about her drew him like no woman had ever done before. He had a burning ache to make her his in every way. She would be worth fighting for, that he knew for certain.

* * *

Tamara slowly made her way back into the tavern. She was even more confused about the events of the past two days then ever before.

The simple life she led at the mill with her parents never prepared her for such things. Suddenly she found herself longing for things to be as they were when her mother was alive. Her mother seemed always know just the right things to say to make Tamara feel better. He mother had a way of just making everything seem it was as it should be. She missed her mother dearly.

She laughed to herself as she remembered dreaming of an exciting life away from the mill. Now she found she should be eating those words. She thought about what Gawain had said to her concerning the scout. What he had said about his own feelings for her.

Tamara gathered her courage along with a mug of ale; slowly making her way into the center of the tavern. Coming to the partition she stopped. She took a deep breath then made her way into the shadow. She could hear his deep breathes, just barely making out his form in the shadow. Clearing her throat she placed her hand on the table's edge. Reaching toward the middle of the table she placed the mug of ale down. The sound of his chair coming down to all fours echoed as his hand reached for the mug. She heard him drink, gulp more like it. The mug came to rest on the table once more. Her hands placed on the table, still she waited. She waited for an invitation from him, a word, anything. There was not a sound except that of his breathing.

Her head lowered, she laced her fingers together and placed them on her belly. Letting out a deep sigh, she took a step back as she turned to leave.

"You could sit," he said as his deep accent flowed from the darkness. "If you want that is."

A soft smile brushed her lips as she hurriedly made her way to the stool next to him. Her hands nervously pressed her apron as she desperately tried to find something to say to him.

"I am sorry that I hurt your feelings this morning Tristan." She finally mustered the nerve.

He chuckled. "You did no such thing. I don't get my feelings hurt. I am a grown man, girl, not some young pup."

She sat up twisting her head in his direction as her brows began to knit. Her mood once again changing to rage.

"Take it easy girl." he groaned. "You allow yourself to get fired up over the slightest things do you not?"

She began to get up but suddenly felt his long fingers wrap around her wrist and pull her back.

"Stay," he whispered.

"I must return to my duties," she said as she stood and made her way.

Her head peered around the partition.

"Will you be escorting me home again tonight?" she asked with a coy smile.

"I will," he murmured. "If you desire it to be so."

She smiled. "I desire it very much so."

He smiled although she could not see him, he did smile.

"I shall not be long then." She replied with a smile. "You had better finish your ale." She replied in a jestful tone.

"Girl, are you ordering me about?" he snapped.

"Someone has to keep you straight," she said playfully.

"And you think that someone is _you_?" he smiled within but grumbled outwardly.

"Yes, I do," she whispered.

"You think so?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Well if not...why do you bother to take me home then scout?" she said with a smirk, her hands on her hips.

Tristan took his mug of ale, raised it to his mouth and began to drink. He was smiling as the mug hide his expression. He was smiling at her boldness. He liked that she had fire for one so young. She reminded him of someone far from here. Someone he had cared deeply for, before Rome came for him.

"Go and finish your duties girl," he said as his mug slamed against the table. "I will be waiting for you in the stable."

**To be continued… reviews would be lovely... thank you**


	10. Tristan's Memories

**Disclaimer- theirs are theirs- mine are mine**

**The song that inspired this chapter is **_**Memories**_** from Within Temptation- **

**My friends and I sit about talking about my different stories… nearly a month ago the conversation got around to who would I like to see play my characters if they were actually movies- so I got to thinking about and decided to do a blog and post who I thought I would like to see play them… so if you are interested you can check the blog link from my profile. It was a lot fun doing it… ENJOY- also you can listen to the song which inspired this chapter there….**

**Lujza is pronounced Luja- it means famous warrior**

**Chapter 10: Tristan's Memories**

The flickers illuminated the stable interior with a soft glow from the torched flames that lined the massive wooden pillars. He carefully brushed her with the gentle touch of a lover, tender and kind. The palms of his hands slowly glazed over her neck just under her silky charcoal colored mane as his voice sung a soft gentle tune from his homeland. The tranquility of his voice soothed the beast, calming her into a sublime existence. He placed the blanket across her back before tossing his saddle on her as he had done so many times. Her head calmly nodded up and down as he placed the bit in her mouth and the bridle over her ears.

"That's my beautiful girl," he spoke in his native tongue, his words, his deep husky voice mesmerized the animal.

They had formed a bond over the years, this human and animal that was strong. His father had once told him of an ancient Sarmatian legend in which it was believed that fallen knights returned as great horses. He believed it to be true; his equine companion was excellent in battle, never faltering. They rode as one, she protected him, knew before he did sometimes where the enemy was. She and the hawk were all he had in this life on this island he was forced to exist.

* * *

A sadness overcame him, a heaviness in his heart. His heart, that which so many thought was cold, forbearing, unforgiving and hard as stone.

He was not always this way. No, he once had a life long ago and so far away. He had a family, a home, even a woman. He knew happiness, peace and most assuredly joy.

Then Rome came and took everything from them.

_TRISTAN:_

_Made me promise I'd try  
To find my way back in this life  
I hope there is away  
To give me a sign you're okay  
Reminds me again  
It's worth it all  
So I can go home_

_All of my memories  
Keep you near  
In silent moments  
Imagine you'd be here  
All of my memories  
Keep you near  
The silent whispers, silent tears_

The memory of her tear laden face as she watched him leave her side that day still burns in his soul. At night she found him, her memories would creep into his mind, haunting his dreams with images of her. He would hear her voice whispering through the breeze that flowed through the branches of every forest he had ever ventured in.

It was one of two dreams he had that were always the same.

The first of his dreams was the most haunting. She was there, standing in the mist, just at the forest's edge, his beautiful apparition, his wife, Lujza. Her dark silk strewn hair flowed in the breeze; her brown eyes beckoned him as her hand extended reaching for him. There was blood stained on her dress. As he made his way toward her she moved deeper into the woodland. All the while she called out his name, called for him to save her, to help her, to rescue her.

He had failed her; always he failed to reach her. Each time no matter how hard he tried, he never could reach her, never could find her. He had failed to protect her, failed to save her in real life and failed in his dreams.

He would hear her voice echoing through the trees calling out for him to find her, calling his name as he frantically searched for her and their son.

Then there was the dream he relished more, sadly this one he had few and far between. This dream allowed him to be with her, to feel her in his arms. It was the same, each time, the day of their binding ceremony and their coupling. He was with his beautiful bride once more. He loved her, loved her deeply.

* * *

Tristan was much older than most of the young Sarmatian's that Rome would come to claim, he was almost twenty summers. His tribe had moved around so much and lived so far in the cold north region of Sarmatia that Rome took it's time. Inevitably Rome marched in taking with them all the young men from the ages of twelve to twenty.

That dreadful day that Rome came for him, left him with only those images, those memories that are forever burned in his mind. His mother, father, two sisters, his beautiful young wife and their three year old son, were gone from him now and forever.

* * *

They had been childhood sweethearts he and Lujza. Her father was a tribal elder along with his father. Their pairing was of mutual consent and arranged by the families. But that matter not to Tristan and Lujza, for they had loved one another since they were children.

They grew up together, played together, and worked side by side together. It was always understood that they would be paired together. She was his, and he was hers from the very beginning.

He was tall and lanky in his youth, but he was strong, stronger then he looked. His dark hair always tossed in a mangled mess of braided locks. He was among his tribe's best hunters. His skills as an archer were well known throughout the region, as were his outstanding abilities as a scout. It was said that he could track a snowflake in the dead of winter.

Lujza was two years his younger, she was tall and thin like him. They were both quiet. Most people who knew them took the both to be shy. But the true fact was they were more observers than participants in open conversation. When they were alone conversation flowed with ease and comfort between them. She made him happy. She made him smile, something he did often in her presence. It just became natural, smiling.

She had a quiet strength about her that he drew from. She never complained, never nagged and certainly was never flighty as were most of the girls her age. Where he was repulsed by the loud obnoxious cackling of young girl's laughter, Lujza had the laugh of a song bird. It was soft, airy and light as the wind. She was an old soul, settled, and confident in herself and her abilities.

* * *

Lujza and Tristan-

_Together in all these memories  
I see your smile  
All the memories I hold dear  
Darling you know I love you till the end of time_

They came, the Roman centurions, came one summer day when the sun was high. It shone against the brightest blue sky she had ever seen. They had come for her husband, her eternal love, father to her son. They came to take him to a far off land called Britain. He was taken away from them to serve as a knight for Rome. Fifteen years he would be gone. He would miss watching his son grow into a young man.

Tristan was among the cursed of their people, the Sarmatians, because of his sex; it was the same for all their men, as it will be for their son. They were forced into servitude to honor a promise made by their ancestors.

She watched in silence holding their son as he slept, watched her husband as he packed what little possessions he would take with him. The blanket his parents gave to them on their binding day, the binding cloth she made, and other small items that would remind him of them.

Fighting back the tears that welled in her throat; she could not let him see her weep. She did not want their final moments spent with tears.

He smiled at her from across their hut. She would miss that beautiful smile of his, the way his hair fell across his face, and the sound of his laughter. So many things she would miss about him. Her heart broke into a thousand million pieces as she watched her love prepare to leave.

"We can run, run somewhere they will never find us?" He heard her say.

The look on her face told him that she was unaware the words had even left her mouth.

He walked over to her slowly, kneeling before his wife. His hands caressed her beautiful face.

"I am no coward Lujza," he whispered as he placed a kiss on their sleeping son's head. "Would you have me spend the rest of our days looking over my shoulder?"

"I pray to the Gods that you will stay," she whispered as he wiped the tears that burned their way down her cheek.

"I will return to you in fifteen years. I will find my way back to you and our son," he placed a kiss upon her soft lips.

Another thing she would surly come to miss, the way his kisses made her feel.

"Tristan it is time," a voice called from outside their hut.

He said his goodbye's to his parents, sisters, friends and other family members, as did all the rest, ten in total were being ripped away this day. So many tears shed, frighten young men, sorrowful mothers, and grief filled fathers who knew what awaited their sons.

Standing before his wife with his forehead braced against hers, Tristan tenderly stroked Lujza's arms.

"_Darling you know I love you till the end of time"_, he placed another kiss on her lips, the warmth of his mouth made her loose what little control she had. She tried so desperately to fight back the tears, but she was not as strong as he believed her to be.

"Please wife….I cannot bare it," He whispered softly as he bent down to hold his son.

"Crete, my son," he kneeled down on one knee, their son, just three seasons, slipped onto his father's lap. "Son, you must take care of your mother for me while I am away." He smiled that beautiful smile of his, the one she loved so deeply. "You will be near a grown man by the time I return, my son. I love you; always remember your papa loves you." He held him for dear life.

Crete wrapped his tiny arms around his father's neck, not understanding the full impact of what was about to happen. His father was to leave, and more than likely they would never see one another again.

He kissed her passionately once more before turning to leave. In a moment's time he was but a mere faint shadow on the horizon.

* * *

Lujza-

_In this world you tried  
Not leaving me alone behind  
There's no other way  
I'll pray to the gods: let him stay_

The memories ease the pain inside  
Now I know why

[Chorus:]  
All of my memories  
Keep you near  
In silent moments  
Imagine you'd be here  
All of my memories  
Keep you near  
The silent whispers, silent tears

Several years had passed since Tristan was taken from them. Crete was now five winters, he was tall for his age with the look of his father.

There were few of their tribe left, mostly old men, woman and children. All of their strong men folk were gone. Gone were their men, taken to serve Rome for all its glory and greed.

The Goths to their east were invading. The fear that they would find them had become a reality. What was left of Tristan's village had been ransacked, his people had been scattered, hiding in the woods, in the mountains, anywhere they could.

They killed the old men, even the old women. Took what young women were there as slaves to be sold in Rome, raped those they chose. Lujza too was taken, raped and beaten. She was also on her way to Rome, to be sold at auction. What would become of Crete? Would he be taken and sold as well?

A few days into the journey she saw a chance to escape and she took it. They were hunted down like dogs, hiding in the forest thicket, fields, wherever they could.

Finally a band of Goths, whose leader was a giant of a man had tracked them deep in the woodlands. He came after Lujza, the large one, with a vengeance. She quickly grabbed Crete in an attempt to escape. She tried futilely to run before she was blocked by several other of the Goth men.

Suddenly she turned in another direction; she was flanked by more of the hunting party. Turning back she was met by the giant leader and his entire wrath. Feeling extreme heat, a burning sensation deep within her, she stopped.

Crete let out a loud cry which turned into soft whimpers. Tears rolled down his face as the child gave a terrified stare into his mother's eyes. Suddenly she grew cold, intense pain overcame her.

Holding on tightly to Crete, whose eyes were now closed; his body was limp in her arms, she began to tremble and shake.

The long steel blade of the Goth's sword had run through the both of them. She felt herself fall to the ground. All Lujza could think about were the memories of her sweet Tristan as her body tumbled.

"_The memories ease the pain inside"_

Feeling the cold steel blade of his sword as it was pulled out of her body; she trembled and jerked at its release. Finally their bodies hit the forest ground, Crete lay upon his mother. With the feel of the soft mossy grass underneath her body she gazed upward into the tree top canopy.

She could see through the tree tops at the sky. It was as blue as the sky was the day when Tristan left.

As she lay dying, her blood slowly drained from her body, she held tightly onto her son, life had already left him. He is free now.

She saw Tristan's face, smiling at her as he always did. The words he last spoke to her as he left her rang in her ears.

"_Darling you know I love you till the end of time"_

* * *

Tristan-

One day, one ice cold winter's day, several years after his arrival to his post at Badon Hill, his world became as dark and grey as the day itself. On that day the sun seemed a distant pleasure that would never bless his life again.

On that cold dark day word had come with the new batch of young knights who arrived at Badon Hill. Word from their homeland; the end of _his_ world had come. His tribe had been ransacked, plundered, and most everyone massacred. Nearly every one of the inhabitants killed ruthlessly by an invading Goth tribe from the east. His entire family was gone; he had nothing, nothing left for him but his memories.

Memories, he had tried to forsake a long time ago. He found that thinking of them, thinking of her only brought sadness and pain. What good would come of that? He could not bring his loved ones back. He was not there to save them, none of the young men were. They were in service to Rome.

* * *

Present day back in the stable:

He stood quietly in the stall next to his dapple mare, his head braced firmly against hers. His hand gently caressed the mare's neck underneath her mane. He was collecting his thoughts; he needed to bury them deep within himself. Tamara would soon be here, and it would not be fair to the girl for her to bear the brunt of his pain. He knew he was a difficult man to deal with especially when his pain was near the surface festering like an infected wound.

Suddenly, without warning he heard her, she had caught him off guard. He heard the soft clearing of her throat. He spun around to gaze upon her, she was beautiful. Beautiful in a way he had not felt in many years. He looked upon her face, smiled at the way the amber glow of the flames caught the highlights in her hair. She looked up at him, so trusting, so loving. She smiled, it was soft and kind.

"You were far away in your thoughts," her voice so soft and low that he barely heard her.

"Yes, I was thinking of….." he stopped not knowing exactly what to say.

He had not spoken of his loss in so many years. Only very few of the knights even knew that he had been married or even that he had a child. It was never spoken about.

"Your home and another life far from here," She whispered as she tenderly placed her small hand on his forearm, stepping close to his side.

She knew what he was thinking he could tell. But she did not know the extent of his thoughts. He would have to tell her one day, if he pursued this. He looked down upon her face, into her eyes. He could easily fall in love with this girl, if he hadn't already.

He saw a lot of Lujza in her. Perhaps that is why he was so attracted to her so soon. She had her quiet strength.

"Yes, another life far from here," he said softly. "We should go."

"Yes, we should," she said as she made her way to the saddle.

Tristan helped her up on the saddle after which he placed his boot in the stirrup and flung his right leg over the haunches of his mare and settled in behind Tamara. She leaned back, resting against his chest. He smiled as her head braced under his chin, he wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her in tight, made a clicking noise with his tongue and they were off.

Neither spoke a word until they were clear of the gates.

"Thank you Tristan," she said as she allowed her hand to come upon his.

"For what?" he inquired as he opened his fingers and laced hers within.

"Seeing me home," she smiled as she looked up at him.

The slow rhythm of the mare's gate rocked the couple soothingly. Tristan placed the reigns in his left hand. Taking his right hand he slowly lifted it to her cheek. With his thumb he began to affectionately stroke the soft skin of her cheek. His long fingers laced gently behind her ear into her hair. Bending down, his lips brushed hers tenderly. Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth of his skin grace across her lips, she let out a muffled groan. Her eyes flew open as she had never made such a sound before. She pulled back slightly only to be brought back by his firm hand which was now cupped on the back of her neck.

"You do not like my kisses?" he whispered as he placed a tender peck on her forehead.

Her head lowered. He sensed she was embarrassed. He smiled.

"You have never been kissed before have you….Tamara?" he said as he lifted her chin with the crook of his finger.

She pressed against his finger in an attempt to lower her head once more. He would not allow it.

"No, I have not," she whispered.

"My apologies if I offended you…by taking liberties I perhaps should not have," he said as he smiled softly at her.

"You did not mean to kiss me then?" she inquired with wonder in her eyes.

"Oh no…I intended to kiss you…I have wanted to kiss you since last night," he smiled.

She began to speak but his lips found hers once again. This time more passionately more feverishly. Her words were lost in his kiss as he leaned her back into his arms. Her head rested in the crook of his left arm, while his right hand tangled in her locks. Soon his right hand reached down and swung her left leg over so that she now sat sideways in the saddle. Their kiss never broke as he hungrily plied at her mouth. Her hands were caressing the dark chest hairs that sprung from his shirt, as the other hand snaked around his waist. Finally from sheer need of oxygen they parted lips, he slowly pulled her up. His hand pressed her head to rest on his chest. He smiled contently as he heard a soft sigh escape from her mouth. With her fingers still fondling his chest hairs, he cradled her within his arms.

Her first kiss, this is how she imagined it would be, breathtaking.

**To be continued…..**


	11. Enough is Enough

**Disclaimer: They belong to Touchstone Pictures… mine belong to me…. but I share….**

**Thanks to: ShiloCoulter, KimmyWSmith, Gwilwillth, Quiver for his arrows, Elsker Di, Jen, anarane2, and EDM11 for the awesome reviews. Again and as always to all those who read, email and mark! Thank you all….**

**So I finally finished Two Paths Crossed and as promised I am going to finish this story out as well. So to recap Gawain and Tristan are both attracted to Tamara (check updated blog for this story as I have changed the actress….I think this one fits better…let me know what you think)… **

**This is part one of Enough is Enough…. It is a short chapter so enjoy and let me know what you think…**

**Chapter takes place three weeks after Tamara first began work at the tavern.**

* * *

**The inspiration song for this chapter is Sarah McLachlan's _Do What I have to do_**

**What ravages of spirit **

**Conjured this temptuous rage**

** Created you a monster **

**Broken by the rules of love**

** And fate has led you through it **

**You do what you have to do**

** And fate has led you through it**

** You do what you have to do ...**

** And I have the sense to recognize that**

** I don't know how to let you go**

** Every moment marked **

**With apparitions of your soul **

**I'm ever swiftly moving**

** Trying to escape this desire **

**The yearning to be near you **

**I do what I have to do **

**The yearning to be near you **

**I do what I have to do**

** But I have the sense to recognize**

** That I don't know how**

** To let you go **

** A glowing ember Burning hot **

**Burning slow **

**Deep within I'm shaken by the violence **

**Of existing for only you **

**I know I can't be with you **

**I do what I have to do **

** And I have sense to recognize but I don't know how to let you go I don't know how to let you go**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Enough is Enough Part 1**

Another patrol…. another endless patrol for Rome and another rainy night.

_Rain…..the godsdamn fucking rain_ he groaned to himself as he walked over to a nearby tree. He hunkered down, braced himself against the tree trunk as best he could. The fire had gone out about an hour ago and he really didn't give a shit. Pulling his cloak over his head he listened as the pounding drops beat against his skull like the sounds of battle drums. He hoped that the sound would drown out any thoughts of her from his mind.

No chance, no chance in hell.

She was in ever thought he had lately. She somehow found her way into everything he saw as well. Everything reminded him of her. She was everywhere and in everything…and he was beginning to resent it, because it meant she was not with him.

No, instead she would be with _him _right now, snuggled in _his_ arms and hidden away in his godsdamn secluded corner at the tavern. He had never known ill feelings toward his brethren but he was beginning to towards Tristan.

He was at least sure that she had not made it back to his quarters at the knight's barracks. Certain that he had not taken her to his bed, not many secrets could be kept around the fort. None like that at any rate.

Thoughts of the two of them together crept out of every corner of his mind. Images of their embraced bodies seeped into the cavity of his chest, the thought of him holding her, touching her….kissing her. He felt ill. A physical pain panged him in his chest.

Jealousy, what an evil mistress she turned out to be.

He closed his eyes, jealousy.

He could hear the sound of her soft giggles whispering from her beautiful lips as he indubitably said something uncharacteristically humorous. The way her face lit up whenever Tristan looked at her. The soft curves of her beautiful face. Her small delicate hand slipping into his, even the way she leaned into him when he stood by her side. It should be him not the Scout that she delighted in being with.

It had been near three weeks time since Gawain had brushed against her in the tavern, felt her soft skin in his arms. Three weeks time since he deliberately lingered in the tavern in hopes of gaining her attention. Three weeks since she stole his heart from him.

His eyes shut, teeth gritting. Oh how he hated it when the Scout would lean in, taking a hand full of her long beautiful hair and inhale her scent, causing her cheeks to blush over.

"Fuck sake," shouted Gawain into the storm of the night as the pain of their images tortured his very soul.

He jumped up casting his cloak off his body as he did, extended his arms slightly out from his body and leaned his head back as far as he could. The rain pounded on his face, stinging like the sharp blade of a dagger.

There in the middle of the forest with no other soul around Gawain released a fierce scream that shook like the very thunder around him.

_Enough is enough_ he scolded himself as he stomped over to his horse, saddled her then threw his leg over her haunches slipping into his saddle. He made a clicking sound and the pair took off. He was headed back to the fort. He was ready to fight for her. He had never lost a woman to any man and sure enough hells not to the likes of the Scout and by all the gods he would not begin now.

It wasn't just his pride that was wounded. Wasn't the fact that he hated loosing (which he did). It was more the fact that she touched a place in his heart and made him feel something he had never felt for any woman, ever. He desired everything about her. Dreamt of her lying next to him in his bed, secure in his arms. Envisioned her carrying his seed within her belly, what their children would look like. When he closed his eyes he could smell all the wonderful mixture of scents that belonged to her.

He was in love with her.

He'd even so much as stooped to thinking of her while he was with some wench from the tavern. He loathed it, as they could never come close to her.

To be continued…..


	12. Revised Enough is Enough Part 2

**Disclaimer: They own theirs and I own mine and we all play nicely together….**

**Thanks to brandibuckeye and ShiloCoulter for your reviews on this chapter….. and to all of you who read it… I adore you….**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Enough is Enough Part 2**

There was a knock upon the wooden door.

_He is early today_ she thought as the heavy knock on the door caught her off guard. A warm smile crossed her lips as Tamara quickly brushed her hair, removed her apron and pressed her dress as she hurried to the door. Her heart raced with the anticipation of seeing his dark beautiful dark eyes smiling at her.

Tristan had taken to arriving in the afternoon to fetch Tamara for a ride alone before escorting her to the tavern to begin her shift. He looked forward to their time together, the feel of her melting into him as he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame while they rode. The way their breathing was in unison, the feel of her soft hand as their fingers laced together. But mostly it was the way she looked at him, the way her beautiful eyes peered into his soul. She was so trusting and loving, as though he was the only person in the world at that moment in time. He had never known that feeling and he liked it. When he was with Tamara he felt normal, whatever that meant in his life at this point in time. She made him feel….alive again.

His head slowly lifted, his hair cascaded across his face as their eyes met in a gaze. He smiled, his features softened when he did so and she wished he would smile more often. _Oh those lips of his- kiss me please and be quick about it_ she thought in her head as she felt the blood within her veins heat up. She closed the door behind her, her hands still on the handle and her back braced for support.

He knew she longed for his kiss and enjoyed teasing her by withholding as long as he could stand it himself.

"Good day Tamara," he whispered as he leaned in, his left arm braced just above her on the door as he brushed his lips across her forehead leaving a tender kiss. His right hand gently caressed her arm, sweeping her hair over her shoulder.

"Good day Tristan," her voice was soft and musing. Her body shivered as she felt the tickle of his whiskers brush against her cheek. He smiled, chuckling lowly in her ear. His hand cupped the nape of her neck as he took her earlobe between his lips and sucked gently. Her knees buckled and he caught her laughing to himself how innocent she was. As her hands slid inside his tunic she felt his muscles tighten.

Tristan kissed her neck then trailed his lips across her cheek to her eye where he kissed its lid. Then he began his journey to her brow kissing it before crossing his lips over the skin of her forehead to kiss her other eyelid. He felt her head slowly tilt back as his lips brushed her cheek, then chin: gliding his tongue down her neck where he finally stopped placing one last long lingering kiss upon her. His hands cupping her face as he covered her lips with his own. He felt her hands grab at his shirt trying to tear it off. She softly moaned as she felt the warmth between her thighs intensify. He moaned feeling his own desire for her building.

_Not here, not like this will you claim this girl you fool, ease off _he chastened himself.

Pulling away from his kiss he placed his lips on her forehead.

"Are you ready for our ride today," he mused.

"Ride?" she queried.

He chuckled.

Jerking herself up from tantalizing trance she blushed.

"Oh yes, our ride," she cleared her throat and pressed the front of her dress. "Yes….yes I am ready thank you."

Her soft grey eyes looked up into his dark amber orbs smiling at him. His hand slipped around her waist taking her in his hold and guided her toward his waiting horse. She was light as a feather and with no effort he hoisted her up in the saddle before placing his boot in the stirrups, swinging his leg over and sliding in just behind her. It was only moments before they were off on their ride.

"Tamara," he softly spoke.

"Yes my lord," she whispered.

"I am not your lord, woman. I wish you would stop calling me that," he said with a release of air.

"It is part of your title as a knight Tristan. You should it wear it with honor," she chastened him.

He retreated into another world, leaving her behind. She could feel him pulling away from him although his arms were wrapped around her. There was no conversation for sometime between them. Tristan moved his right arm so it covered her upper body while his left arm held her mid section. His chin rested against her temple lobe. Tamara moved her hands so the grasped his right forearm and leaned into him. She loved the way he felt when his chest heaved up and down with each breath.

"Tristan," she whispered his name calling him out of his distance from her.

"I am a mere slave Tamara, not your lord and three years from now I will be free. I will be a free man, returning home to my birthplace." He quietly whispered in her ear.

"You will leave Britain?" She inquired tilting her head up towards him.

"Yes, I will," he said pulling her close.

There was once again silence between them as they rode. She thought intently about his words. He was in his own thoughts.

"Do you have a woman who waits for you there," she asked, her eyes closed as she held her breath waiting the answer.

He did not reply right away which only caused her to tense as a sick feeling came over her as she felt his hold on her loosen.

He exhaled pulling her close to him once more.

"I did at one time," his voice was so different than she had ever heard it before. It was filled with pain.

"Once a life time ago I had a woman," he paused reflecting on if he should dare speak of Lujza and Crete to her.

He pulled the reins stopping the horse and dismounted. He gazed up at her for a few moments before extending his arms for her to fall into. She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck she buried her face in the crook of his neck as her legs dangled, his arms holding her tightly. They stayed like this for what seemed a life time. Finally her feet touched the ground, her arms stretched so her hands touched his shoulders. Tristan took her left hand in his right, intertwining their fingers and led her along the path. Tamara placed her right hand on his forearm and braced her face on his upper arm. They walked a few more steps.

He paused.

"Her name was Lujza, she was my wife," he said as he turned to look into Tamara's eyes. "We had a son, his name was Crete."

Her heart stopped, she felt as though her chest would burst from the excursiating pain it felt at this moment in time._ A wife, he has a wife and child _the words whipped over and over in her mind. Her breath short, her throat dry and her head spun like a her father's milling wheel. _How could be so cruel as to_ _lead me down this path how_ she wondered as she looked to the ground.

His hand reached down to touch her cheek. He took note of the pain and betrayal that scorched her beautiful face. He had not meant to hurt her by telling her, merely to share his life with her.

"Tamara," he said quietly drawing her out of her thoughts. "Tamara, I need to explain."

"Explain," she said backing away form him. "There is nothing to explain. You have a wife and child." Her eyes welled with tears. "I am nothing but entertainment to pass your time until you return home to your family."

She turned and began to run. She did not make it more than three paces when she felt his strong arm around her waist. He pulled her up into his arms with such ease.

"Leave me be you bastard!" She cried out, kicking and punching him.

He shook her firmly.

"No," he said. "Not until you hear me out. Then, if you decide you still feel this way I will not bother you again."

Tristan placed her back on the ground as she struggled to release herself from his grip. He would not let her go for fear she would run without hearing what he had to say. Her back was against his chest and his grasp on her was firm.

"I _had_ a wife...and a son," he said quietly. "I do not anymore."

She jerked herself free from his hold, turned to face him and crossed her arms. Her face was stern and harsh.

"So you have a wife and a son you have not seen since you left Sarmatia but you are still her husband and father to your child."

Tristan took several paces back from her. Here it was, what he had feared would happen, sharing his past and bringing to the surface his pain and anguish.

"No Tamara, I will never see them again," he looked down his breathing slowed. "They were killed two years after I left."

She was paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. How could she have misjudged him so wrongly? Her head bent down ashamed of what she had said to him. He was merely trying to open up and let her in and here she was slamming the door in his face. She looked up at him, deep into his eyes. The distance between could have been miles. Slowly she moved forward, placing her hand on his cheek when she neared him.

"Oh Tristan," tears welled in her eyes. "I am so sorry for your loss. I am ashamed I did not trust you more."

Her arms encircled his waist. It was a few moments before he held her.

"I felt you should know this Tamara…because….because," he began to tell her how he felt about her. That he loved her and wanted her as his woman. But before he could get the words from his mouth he heard the sound of heavy horse hooves, his head shot in the direction of the sound.

"Tristan," Galahad called out for him.

The riders approached.

"Tristan you are called back to Badon, Arthur has summoned another one of his emergency meetings," Lamorak (Rak as he was known by the other Knights).

Lamorak was one of the younger Knights like Galahad.

Without another word he placed Tamara on the saddle, mounted his horse and they rode off for Badon and Arthur's command.

**To be continued….**


	13. Enough is Enough Part 3

**Disclaimer: Theirs are theirs…mine are mine…**

**Many thanks to brandibuckeye and ShiloCoulter for your reviews on the last chapter. And to all those who read it. As always very appreciated.**

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**Chapter 13: Enough is Enough Part 3**

Arthur had once again summoned the Knights for another emergency meeting. _Weren't all his meetings deemed an emergency _the Scout murmured to himself as he held Tamara tighter around her waist? _Why in the godsdamn hell did he always have to call meetings _the Scout groaned?

Most of the time whenever he had them summoned all they really did was sit around listening to Arthur babble, bitch, bellyache or piss moan about one thing or the other. It was all a waste of his time and talents as far as he was concerned. He began to wonder was his fearless commander in chief merely a lonely fucking old sod.

He could feel the anger brewing in his chest when suddenly his scenes inhaled the aroma of her hair. He leaned his cheek against her head and took a long, slow deep breath as his eyes closed. She smiled as she felt his arms enclose her even tighter. _By all the gods she smelled so good….damn it all she felt so good_ he moaned to himself. Tamara placed her hands on his legs, turned up and into him feeling the bristles of his whiskers tickle her face. Gently she reached up and kissed his neck. Suddenly he forgot that he was piss fucked at Arthur.

Tristan reached his hand down, swung her legs over the saddle so that Tamara was now sidesaddle and securely wrapped in his arms resting her body against his chest. She could hear the slow beating of his heart and the deepness of his breath as her arms laced around his midsection. The Scout deliberately slowed the pace of his horse and it was noted by both Rak and the Whelp. They got the hint that he wanted solitude with his woman and they were to see to it they did not interrupt. A hint they both took seriously, kicking their horses to a slow trot until they were far enough ahead to be out of hearing shot.

She kissed his chest. Her lips meshed together and her tongue smacked in her mouth. He tasted of dust, sweat and many other orders belonging to a man that spent most of his time out of doors on the back of a huge beast. But she loved it, she loved him. Tamara did not care what he smelled like, tasted like or even looked like most of the time, she held him tighter as though she never wanted to be apart from him. He had shared something deep and important with her just moments prior and knowing him the way she had come to she knew it was not easy for him. More importantly she knew that _she_ meant something to _him_ as a result and that made her smile inside.

"What is going through that mind of yours girl," she heard his low voice echoing as his fingers slipped into her hair.

Looking up into his smiling gaze she touched his beard and whispered softly "You, my lord."

His left brow cocked as the corners of his mouth tilted upward. "Woman," he chuckled. "I am no-," he was interrupted by a stern finger pressed on his lips.

"Shhhh, do not spoil this wonderful moment with your brooding and demanding please," she stated looking into surprised amber orbs. His lips smiled against the skin of her finger releasing a chuckle.

Tamara leaned upward to meet his kiss, slowly removing her finger to enjoy the warmth of his mouth covering hers. Her hand snaked around the back of his neck sliding into his thick locks. He moaned loudly, his body straitening as he pulled her closer. Before he even realized it his hand was cupping her breast when he heard a gasping moan escape into his mouth. He began to remove his hand from its present location when suddenly he felt warm soft flesh returning it. She felt him smile through his kiss as he leaned her back into the crock on his arm, turning her slightly so her back faced the would be onlookers that traveled ahead. Tristan continued his prowess upon her mouth and his tender kneading of her breast. He felt her nipple harden beneath his touch causing him to involuntarily groan as he felt the heat and firmness swelling in his leathers.

"I want you," he purred between kisses. Her hands slipped inside his tunic. "I want you to be mine."

"I am yours my lord," she whispered breathlessly.

By all the gods he wanted to stop and take her right there right then and would have save he had gained too much respect and admiration for her.

All too soon they neared the gates of the fort.

"You best sit up straight now, we are close to the gates and all the eyes and wagging tongues of the dwellers," he grumbled at the thought. The dwellers is what Tristan called anyone living in the fort who was not a Knight or a 'piss fucked idiot Roman'. "I do not know how long this meeting with Arthur will take. I will come to the tavern as soon as he releases us… if that pleases you my lady," he smiled with a wink.

"I will be well pleased…my lord," she giggled as he pressed a kiss on the back of her head.

"Gah, woman will you refrain from calling me 'my lord' please," he groaned under his breath.

His fingers tickled her waist her body wiggled and twisted from side to side and she giggled loudly causing the travelers ahead to look back, roll their eyes and laugh themselves.

His demeanor changed the moment they passed through the iron gates of the fort. He became stiffer more stoic. She could tell he put on his fiercely known armor for all to see. No one dared bother him when he cast his death glare at them. She lowered her head and meshed her lips tightly together biting back a smile. If people only knew how he truly was. But then he would not be Tristan.

**To be continued….**


	14. This Ends

**Disclaimer: Still remains the same.**

**Thanks so much to Jen, ShiloCoulter, Azure83 and of course the amazing and ever faithful brandibuckeye for your wonderful reviews. And to all those of you who took the time to read the story.**

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**Chapter 14: This Ends Part 1**

_By all the gods above, below and everywhere else they rule how can one fucking man talk so much about so little_, Tristan's lithe body leaned back in the chair slowly lifting a filled goblet to his mouth. He closed his dark amber eyes inhaling as he did, taking within his breath as much wine as he could. He swallowed hard as he sunk down in the chair finally allowing his neck to rest on its back. Long legs slid farther under the table as feet crossed at the ankle. He stared at the ceiling. He had never really taken notice to its detailed adornments before. Closing his eyes he chuckled noticeably. There were a lot of things around him that he was suddenly taking notice to as of recent. The responsibility of his present condition he was convinced was solely and completely due to her. There he said it, thought it. Tamara, the mere whisper of her name in his mind stirred feelings he buried long ago. This girl was going to be the end of him if he was not careful. Of this fact he was certain.

He could hear the muddled sound of his commanding officer in the distant but his thoughts; soul and even heart were somewhere else. Soon he would ask her to be his woman, ask her to share not only his life but his bed. He would claim her to be his. She would be his and his alone….if she agreed that is. Tristan's brow creased drastically he sat up straight, curled his lips tightly releasing a low growl. _Gawain_ he grumbled, feeling the bile rising in his throat. His chest tightened as the vision of that no good pissfucked golden haired Knight's hand on Tamara's slender waist flashed before him. The way he held on to her slipping his hand across the small of her back as she made her way through the tavern. He thought of how brazen that stupid fucking golden hair man was. How he dared escort her home while Tristan had been away on patrol last week. His fist clenched tightly around his goblet as his neck sunk into his shoulders.

With a sudden burst of fury the door opened, hitting against the wall behind it with a loud thud. The room fell silent and all eyes turned toward the figure standing in the threshold. There he stood said godsdamnitall golden haired Knight. He was dripping wet, soaked to his very core and he smelled, the kind of smell you get from a rancid dog with wet hair.

"Glad you saw yourself fit to join us finally Gawain," the sound emanated off the lips of that smart mouth second in command Lancelot who always had to be sure to add his two coins for good measure. "Next time see you find the bath house before you make your way."

Gawain remained firm in the threshold, standing there just glaring at the Scout. The pair locked eyes and Tristan returned his glare with that unmistakable death glare that he is so well noted for. Nostrils flared, breathes became heighten.

"Enough," shouted Arthur in an extremely pissed off tone. When the sound of his command goes unheeded he resorted to slamming his fist forcibly on the heavy wooden table. "I said enough!" Arthur stood up kicking the chair back with his boot as he did. "You two," he snarled, glaring back and forth between his two Knights. "I do not know, nor do I care what it is that has fallen ill between you. But I tell you this...this ends….am I understood?" He stormed toward the door stopping just as he met Gawain face to face. His nose crinkled at the smell. "Resolve it," he looked back and forth several time between them. "Resolve it or I will have the both of you flogged." He began to step out of the door before he stopped and turned to Gawain. "Find the bath house."

Galahad was soon at the door, his hands pressed against Gawain's chest pushing his out of the way.

"Move it Gawain, to the bath house with you," his voice low and concerning to his friend. He knew what the rift between the two was. "Come on, this isn't the time nor the place for this." Their eyes locked. "Come on." The younger knight's hand pulled on Gawain's arm until he reluctantly moved. "By all the gods you are rank." Gawain took one last look at Tristan, whom had not moved or flinched.

Moments later Tristan felt a strong hand grab his shoulder, shaking him. "Tristan," it was Dag towering over him. "Tavern….now, I'll buy you a drink." Strong hand lifted the material on his tunic, giving the Scout no option but to yield to his will. So he reluctantly complied with the demands of his larger friend.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dag led Tristan into the tavern, his hand still held on to the Scout's tunic. The pair took seats at an open table just to the center of the open tavern. It was not long before Tristan smiled; his nostrils filled with the intoxicating aroma of her scent. It was a sweet mixture of herbs and cooking. His breathing slowed to a calm pace and he could feel the muscles in his body begin to relax. Then he felt the warmth of her hand on his back as she leaned in past his shoulder, placed a mug of ale in front of him and looked down to catch his gaze.

"I thought you might be in need of one after your long meeting with Arthur." Her smile was as warm as the sun.

He smiled as his eyes caught sight of the bare white flesh of her slender neck just there before him for the taking. Purposely and skillfully she tilted her head, dropping her shoulder ever slightly. His warm breath prickled her skin into small bumps as heat raged through her bloodstream. Her breath hitched and her mouth dried. She cleared her throat softly. "My lord," in a low sultry purr, knowing that would immediately engage his attention. She was right. He snorted and rolled his eyes. Lifting the mug to his mouth he drank then felt the warmth of her body press against his as she leaned over to place a mug in front of Dag. His eyes closed. She chuckled proud of her accomplishment.

Tristan watched her for the remainder of the night as she plied her services to the customers at the tavern, waiting tables, fetching food and drink. All the while Tristan was ever watchful for anyone who he remotely thought would give Tamara the slightest problem. He and Dag continued to share ale and moderate conversation.

A regular of the tavern wenches, Lucy, entered from the kitchen area; she was looking for this night's companion. Someone strong, hopefully handsome, warm body that she could love for the night and be whatever it was he wanted her to be for the right price. Then she spotted them and so began her prowl. Soon Lucy weaved her way to their table. Seductively trailing her hand over Tristan's shoulder, down his arm then maneuvered her fingers up the large forearm of Dagonet. Yes Dag, the mighty healer, a most gentle lover he was indeed and he would serve her rightly this evening. She was always amazed at how broad and muscular his shoulders were. Strong arms were his reward from years of wheedling a sword, but it was her pleasure to be held by them. It was he who was her favorite lover of all the Knights.

Dag let out a low moan as she continued to trace his tunic with just her fingertips, slowly leaning against his large frame as her arms wrapped around him. He felt a sudden tightening of his breeches as her lips trailed softly the contour of his neck. Always a welcome reaction when she touched him. He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat, tightening the grip on his mug. Warm breath sent sensations up and down his spin, pulse raced as she skillfully sucked just behind his earlobe before taking it into her mouth between her teeth.

"I know just what you are indeed of my healer," she purred in his ear, her hand continuing its path down his breeches. "Mmmmm, yes just exactly what you desire." She whispered. "Come let me pleasure you for the night."

Dag looked toward Tristan. The Scout's head leaned with one eye closed watching his friend's well deserved liaison. Tristan bore a foxlike smirk across his face, lifted his mug in an attempt to hide his chuckle.

"Well, I'm off then," the healer smiled as he drank the last gulp of ale in his mug. He stood up taking Lucy by the hand leading her out of the tavern and back to her room.

Tristan smiled, he knew what pleasures awaited his friend from that wench for she truly was skilled at her trade. He had known many pleasurable nights of the sweetness of her skills. He smiled, lost in memories when suddenly he felt heated eyes staring at him. He looked up to find Tamara standing across the table from him, her hands on her hips and eyes as cold as the blackest winter's night. He chuckled. She clenched her eyes. Suddenly he found her small frame leaned over the table, palms pressed firmly down on the table top.

"Is she what keeps you warm at night on your long lonely patrols," she growled firmly.

Curiosity got the better of him (although he knew women well enough to know prodding her would inevitably be a mistake) he still continued all the same. "What are you on about girl," he chuckled.

"I saw your lingering gaze at her while she walked away with Dag." She snorted. "Then that smile that came across your face." She turned to walk away before stopping. Her headed looked back over her shoulder; beautiful thick black mane tussled down over her shoulders, grey eyes hurtfully stared at him. "And the memory of you lying with her that brought the smile forth upon your lips."

He watched as she walked away, stopping to pick up empty bowls and mugs from the table. Her head down, a slow sadness in her gate.

She knew him far too well, could read his mind and seemed to know his thoughts even without him ever letting her in. Now she was hurt. For the first time since he had arrived he actually cared that he had offended someone. He mused over his ale for a few moments. Heavy sigh, a final drink and he was up. He caught her midway. Taking her by the arm he turned her around, tray still in hand. With a swift agile move he took the tray from her hand and placed it in the hands of one of the other servers. Strong hand gripped her elbow as she was guided to the kitchen. Just outside the door he turned her so her back was flushed with the stone wall. _By all the gods she was tiny_ he thought as his hands braced the stone just either side of her head. Heavy soft breathes brushed her forehead the closer his lips came to her skin. Finally resting his lips upon her skin Tristan placed a kissed, before allowing his nose to brush across her temple. Whisker tickled the side of her face as he brought his head down to rest upon her shoulder.

"It is not _you _who has anything to fear," he whispered.

"What is your meaning," her expression confounded him, surly she knew exactly what he was talking about. Was she playing games with him?

"You mean everything to me woman," his voice low, almost saddened. "I have not felt this in so many years; I have not allowed myself to love again Tamara." There was silence between them. "Not since I lost Lujza and Crete." He felt her hands raise, slipping inside his tunic. Even through the material of his shirt he could feel the warmth of her skin. Leaning forward she kissed the base of his neck. "Tamara, never doubt what I feel for you is real, never."

Her head rose meeting deep darkened amber orbs. He was so beautiful, so intriguing, yet so mysterious. All she knew was that when she was with him her heart raced and her soul longed for him when he was away from her.

"You mean the same to me Tristan. Yet..." pausing to choose her words carefully, she was still young and inexperienced in expressing herself to a man.

"Yet," head pulled back slightly so he could look her in the face.

Her eyes faced downward, her head rested on his chest while her arms wrapped his waist. He took her in his arms and held her tenderly. Hoping against hope that she would feel how much he cared for her, loved her.

"Yet… you do not trust me when I tell you this." Gray eyes looked up for absolution in deep amber eyes. "Why?"

His entire body pulled back, taking several steps back away from her. He stared, did she really not know why he felt the way he did, what was the cause of his concern. Standing in front of her small frame he towered over her, darkly looming. She became afraid.

Tristan closed the distance between them, leaning closely in he whispered in her ear. "Gawain," he growled. "Gawain is in love with you ….and you show him too much attention for my liking," again he growled gripping her shoulders. "You are my woman and I will not share you!" He snarled.

His head flew back at the sound of her laughter. Was she foolish enough to mock him to his face? She could not be that brave, this little mouse of a girl. Quickly her small hand covered her lips, badly attempting to cover the humor she found in his statement.

"Are you mocking me girl," lips curled up in anger.

"Mocking you, no…oh no my lord, certainly never mocking you…. never…laughing at your ridiculous statement…aye." She was brave enough this little minx. Stretching on her tiptoes she placed her hands on his whiskered cheeks and kissed his lips with great tenderness and passion. "You ridiculous man you," her head braced against his lips. "I am in love with you." She kissed him again. This time he embraced her, pressing her against cool stone wall. He returned her kiss forcibly, wantonly more possessively.

Strong hands roamed, grabbing material of her dress as they did. He grabbed her bottom firmly lifting her up, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Their tongues explored each other's mouths with great intent and commitment.

Breathlessly he whispered as he kissed her neck, "I want you."

"Take me, I am yours my lord," her voice gravely, barely able to speak the words out as his hands scorched the bare skin of her thighs.

"Not like this, I will not take you here … like this… I want … want you …in my bed." His words intermittently expelled between kisses lay upon the silky skin of her neck.

The bellowing sound of her name being called over and over echoed in their heads. Heavy breathes as foreheads braced. "Duty calls," she whispered. "Such as it is," her voice crackled with a low soft giggle.

"Such as it is, it is still your duty…..and it calls," warm lips briefly covered hers once more. "Will you stay with me this night Tamara, let me claim you as my woman?"

Her eyes melted into his, warm and tender. A smile graced her mouth that told him she would be his woman. Her lips meshed as she nodded her head.

He took her hands and brought them to his lips. "I will go unsaddle my horse and meet you back here when your shift is done."

Again her name being screeched broke their kiss. They both laughed.

"I'd best be going," she said quietly.

"Yes, you wouldn't want Van after you…..or me," squeezing her hand he left her side. His keen dark eyes watched to make sure she made it into the kitchen before turning the corner. Tristan headed for the stable to unsaddle his horse before returning to the tavern to when her shift ended.

* * *

He entered through the doors of the stable, took three steps past the first stall when the power of the first blow flung him airborn, feet flailed upward before he hit the ground hard. The sting to his jaw and the ringing in his head consumed him as he felt a pair of hands grab his tunic and hoist him up. The second blow knocked him stumblingly backwards onto the tack. His body bent hands braced on his knees. Slowly his body rose to face his attacker. He chuckled loudly wiping the blood from his mouth. He spit, blood and saliva mix barely missed his boots.

"Is that the best you've got you pissfucked sod," the Scout snarled in Sarmatian.

Gawain took a step forward before Tristan lundged at him, grabbing his midsection and forcing him to the ground. Once pinned Tristan's left hand grabbed a fist full of his tunic then doubled his right hand into a fist and struck a blow hard to Gawain's jaw. Blood spurt from his mouth. Grabbing Tristan's tunic Gawain managed to get in another forceful swing knocking him back. Both men scrambled to their feet bracing for a full-fledged fight, which happened.

Standing opposing sides staring at one another both men prepared to battle.

"You are not the man for her Tristan," heavy growl from Gawain in his native tongue, as he cocked his right fist thrusting it, hitting the Scout dead center in the nose. Forcefully jerked him backwards as blood splattered. Tristan collected himself once again wiping the blood on his sleeve. He laughed and looked dead center at his opponent. His eyes dark as death as he stared Gawain down. Both men now moving slowly in a circular pattern. Preparing.

"It is me she has chosen Gawain," the Scout grunted swinging his fists several times in an attempt to hit him but Gawain dodged being struct. A few more gabs before he landed an upper cut to Gawain's left eye. Moments later Gawain's fist punched hard to Tristan's stomach doubling him over as his right knee kicked the Scout's face once again knocking him to the ground.

"She will be mine I said," he growled through gritted teeth as he bent over Tristan.

"Fucking hell she will be," Tristan groaned as he plowed into Gawain knocking him over on his back. Tristan plummeted his face, blood covering his fist. "She's mine I said!" He growled, angered unleashed. Gawain would get the worst of this.

Just at that moment Tamara entered the stables accompanied by Bors.

To be continued…..


	15. I Do What I Have to do

**Disclaimer: You know I don't own them no matter how hard I try….they are free spirits whom roam where they will...**

**Thank you to: ShilCoulter and brandibuckeye for reviewing this story..and to all of those of you who took the time to read it…and hopefully enjoyed it…. Thank you…..**

**A special thanks to Katie…. Thanks so much…. and know I am always here...**

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**Chapter 15: I do what I have to do**

"Tristan what in the gods name are you doing, Stop it!" she screamed at the top of her voice. It was to no avail, both men were bent on finishing what had been started. Blow after blow was administered, their faces and fists blooded, bruised and cut.

Bors immediately ran to separate them. "Tavern….fetch Bru then find Dag," raspy voice called out to the girl. She stood in place still caught off guard at the sight before her. "Girl," he bellowed. "Do as I say!"

His strong grip shook her, brought her back to reality and off she ran. Running directly to Lucy's room Tamara banged on the door as furiously as she could, calling Dag's name over and over as her fists pounded the door. A very stroppy and scantily clad Lucy flung open the door.

Her hair was a tussled mess with only a sheer coverlet draping in front of her body. "What," her voice terse at the insolent intruder who was disturbing her night's wages. Seeing it was Tamara her eyes clenched near shut with fury. "Have you gone half out of your min-"was all she was able to make out as Tamara pushed her way passed Lucy and nearly ran into a very naked Dag who was now perched on the edge of the bed.

"Dag-stables—a fight—Tristan- Bors said you-must come," she was out of breath and tried to sputter out the words.

"Fight," he jumped from the bed grabbing his beeches. "Who fights girl?" He sputtered as he pulled his breeches up grabbing at his boots. Tamara's eyes opened in wonder as she gazed upon the healer's strapping physique. She gasped for breath then realized just why it was that Lucy would favor him as a lover. A warm blush crossed her cheeks as she quickly turned around catching Lucy's laughing smirk at the younger girl's naiveté and modesty. Tamara creased her brows, folding her arms as she remembered Tristan's smile as he watched Lucy walk away.

"Tristan and Gawain have engaged in brawl, Bors is there trying to stop them. I must go get Bru from the tavern," exclaiming as she made her way towards the door.

"You'll not find Bru in the tavern girl," Dag snorted hardly as he brushed past her. "He is occupied otherwise in the next room….. come."

Her face was once again adorned with that of astonishment, although she realized that she should not be so surprised given where she was. As she passed Lucy, the pair snarled at one another.

Leaning her voluptuous body against the threshold Lucy watched Dag. "You _are _comin back love," she purred dropping the sheer coverlet that barely covered her body. "Not quite finished what we started there."

He eyed her very supple breasts which she was now handling herself, teasing hardened nipples between her fingers. "Save something for me now," his voiced canted playfully.

Tamara felt as though her stomach might actually hurl the evening's meal she had eaten earlier at the sound of Lucy's laugh.

Dag's heavy fist beat on the door to the room adjacent to Lucy's "Bru," his deep raspy voice shouted between beats. "Bru…for fucksake man…come on, Tris n Gawain are brawling in the stables." He barely got the words out when the door flung open and a half dressed Bru hopped out while putting his boots on.

"I'll fuckin kill those two pissfucked motherfuckers….with my bare hands at that…I swear I will," he snarled in Sarmatian. Bru ran down the hall lacing up his breeches with Dag and Tamara not far behind them.

* * *

By the time that Dag, Bru and Tamara had returned to the stables a full on brawl was taking place between the pair.

As soon as Dag and Bru entered the stables they saw Bors- he was unconscious. He lay strewn over several saddles which had been knocked down during the scuffle. He had tried to break up the fight between his two brothers which turned out to be a mistake on his part. When Bors attempted to come between the two brawling men they both turned on him, throwing full fisted punches to his jaw causing him to fall backwards. He hit his head on the heavy wooden beam that housed the saddles, rendering him unconscious.

Dag and Tamara ran to Bors, Dag fuming at the pair. Bru wasted no time getting in the middle of the dueling idiots. His brute strength and large stature enabled him to peel the two apart. With one mighty jerk he flung Gawain off of Tristan, landing him in an occupied stall. Gawain had gotten the upper hand having pinned the Scout beneath him. He was straddle across the Scout's upper body beating him senseless.

Bru fastened both hands on Tristan's tunic and hoisted the man up to a standing position.

"Gods Tris you're a godsdamnitall fuckin mess," he snarled in their native tongue. "Dag, you had better come here."

Gawain had maneuvered just barely escaping being trodden by Dag's horse. He regained his footing and leaped out of the stall. As soon as he did he was heading straight back for a much beaten Tristan. Small firm hands pressed against his chest pushing the figure as he continued his quest. Her voice yelling at him brought him back to reality. He stopped. He looked down into her tear filled eyes. Tamara.

"Gawain, please," she whispered as large drops of moisture trickled down her cheek. "I beg of you, please."

"Tamara," his voice hoarse - he placed his hands on her shoulders. It was then he noticed the blood that covered his knuckles, Tristan's blood. He looked over towards where Bru stood holding Tristan up, The Scout wiped his blooded face off with his sleeve. Her head pressed against Gawain's chest, her open palms firm against his chest as she wept.

Dag had managed to bring Bors back to consciousness helping his cousin to the healing chambers. He cast a stern look at Gawain and shook his head. Bru forced Tristan to accompany him as well to the healing chambers. Reluctant to go as he watched Gawain wrap his arms around Tamara, the scout's heart sank. Could he have lost her? Why was she not by _his_ side, comforting _him_, consoling _him_…. instead of in arms of Gawain?

The men left for the healing chambers, leaving the Scout in a broken wake of desire for the woman who was not at his side in his time of need.

* * *

Suddenly she screamed his name, her fists tightened as they began to beat upon his chest with all her might. She could not hurt him physically but her anger, her hurt and more over her disappointment in him quaked with thunder the very center of his being. As his head inclined, his chin rested on the top of her head... he knew.

In that moment he knew that she would never be his.

Gawain took the woman he was completely in love with in his arms and held her tightly. His lips kissed the top of her head as he whispered her name. Her body tensed and fought against him, knowing that he would let her go, but not before he held her for just a few moments longer.

His chest tightened as he loosened his hold on her. He braced her shoulders withhis hands; cloudy brown orbs looked into his. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her warm lips. Once he released his kiss, their foreheads braced.

"I am in love with him Gawain," she wept softly. "Can you please not be happy for me?"

"No Tamara," his voice is shaky. "You ask too much of me. It is I who loves you."

"Gawain," her soft voice breathless.

Pushing her back he released his hold. "Then you should go to him." his voice that of a broken man.

With that said he turned and walked toward his horse. He was indeed a broken man but not from battle but from the loss of love. Which war was the hardest on a man's soul? He could not attest to for each left a man in a death.

He watched as she ran off…away from him- towards Tristan. His heart broke into a thousand million pieces.

"And I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." Sarah McLachlan's '_Do what you have to do'_

**The End.**

**Thank you all so very much for following this story….it actually began as a sweet short one two chapter mainly about Hannah….that took on a life of its own as these stories often do. I appreciate all your support in this and my other stories. **


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